The Progression of Feelings
by seasidewriter1
Summary: Ana isn't sure what to expect when moving into 221b with John and Sherlock. Sherlock isn't sure of having a woman share his flat with him. But, soon the two find that both see the other as equally interesting as she joins the famous duo on their adventures. But what happens when Ana and Sherlock begin to realize they have feelings for each other? Will they admit it? *Sherlock/OC*
1. Prologue: A Problem To Be Solved

_Disclaimer: __ I do not own Sherlock (the show or the original ideas by Arthur Connan Doyle) or any of the characters… however it would be absolutely AMAZING if I did! =D_

_**Foreword: Hello people of Earth, Gallifrey and beyond! My fellow Sherlockians! =D This is my first Sherlock fanfic, so please, understand if it sucks XD Also, my OC does not appear till the next chapter, so this is just a bit of a basis to get the story started. This begins between "A Study In Pink" and "The Blind Banker". I hope you like it! Read on my friends! And, as the Tenth Doctor from Doctor Who would say,**_

_**Allons-y!**_

Prologue

A Problem To Be Solved

" Sherlock, we have a bit of a problem." Said John Watson as he walked into the living room of 221b Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes, who had been in the process of updating his website, the Science of Deduction, let out a sigh, looking up at his friend.

" What is it this time?" Sherlock asked in a monotone, returning to staring at the screen of the laptop.

" Yeah, you know the rent we pay? We haven't been quite meeting what we need to." John said as he took off his black jacket, slinging it over his arm. John Watson was an ex-military doctor, having just returned from Afghanistan. He'd moved in with Sherlock and had been pulled into the dangerous but very exciting world of crime and Sherlock's job as the world's only consulting detective. Life wasn't going to be boring.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as if to say 'how is this my problem?'

" We have to figure out how to make ends meet- even with the money we get from doing cases, we don't have case after case after case waiting for us, and I'm still unemployed, unable to find a job." John plopped into his chair by the fireplace, running a hand through his short hair.

Funny thing was, Sherlock and John seemed to be so spectacularly opposite, that being flat mates actually worked out. Sherlock was a tall man with curly black hair that flopped into his face, his skin pale and matching well with his sharp ice blue/grey eyes. He'd been called a psychopath, which was completely untrue. He was a high functioning sociopath, there is, in fact, a difference. Sherlock kept to the truth, the facts, the scientific reasons, the reasons things happened, and, some could argue, just the general 'who, what, when, where and why.' His mind was able to connect seemingly unimportant things and tell a life story. He was a truly brilliant and amazing man.

John was on the shorter side in height, his short blond hair still growing back from its military style. His blue eyes were always wary, especially when around Sherlock, and his skin was still tanned from his time in the sun in Afghanistan. He was the calmer of the two. He stayed cool and collected most of the time, trying to hold Sherlock down to the reality that was Earth. He'd been impressed by what Sherlock could do, which had been a first for said detective. John had admittedly missed all the action from the war, and found his new life style with Sherlock more fitting than what he had been before, sitting in an overly tidy room, staring at the wall, gripping at a cane that he didn't need.

Sitting there in his chair with Sherlock been unhelpful (which John was beginning to get used to), a thought ran into his head. He sat on the edge of afore mentioned chair and began to think the idea over.

" Sherlock, we have a spare room, don't we?"

" Yes, it's currently being occupied with spare items we aren't sure what to do with." Sherlock responded, finishing a post on the website.

" Well, why don't we clear out the 'spare items' and then rent it out. It _is_ actually a bedroom. That way, we can just split the rent between three people and I'm sure it'll work out well." John suggested, and when said suggestion met Sherlock's ears he turned in his chair to stare at his friend, an unreadable look on his face.

" You do realize how difficult it may be to find another flat mate? One that will agree with me?" He asked. John rolled his eyes. Right then…

" It's worth a shot. I'll go ask Mrs. Hudson if we could rent it out." John said as he stood up, ignoring Sherlock's statement. He headed towards the stairs, prepared to go find Mrs. Hudson, the landlady.

" John." Sherlock called after him. " John! Did you hear what I said?"

" Shut up, Sherlock!"

John knew Mrs. Hudson would probably be glad to take an opportunity to rid the extra room of all the… well… junk that was pilled up in it, the majority of which was Sherlock's. He was mentally preparing himself for probably a long line of interviews for flat mates, including many headaches coming from Sherlock complaining about them. Well… there had to be at least one person in London that Sherlock would be able to agree with. And, smiling as he saw Mrs. Hudson, John thought;

_God, lets hope that's true…_

_**Afterword:**__** There you have it! The prologue! Hope you enjoyed it! Also, I hope you give this story a chance, I hope it'll get better! I also hope I did okay with capturing the characters alright, I've been doubting myself on that bit…**_

_** Okay! So! I'd love a few reviews, reviews make my day better! Hope you'll stick around to read the next chapter, as well as meet my OC, who is named Anabell Marie Stuart. Spoilers! XD I'm spouting Doctor Who references, sorry! XD So, please review (nice reviews or constructive ones, no hate or anger or flame filled ones please!) Thanks!  
~Mary**_


	2. One: It Would Take A Miracle

_Disclaimer: __I do NOT own Sherlock (the show or original ideas by Arthur Connan Doyle) or any of the characters as much as I would LOVE to. I only own my OC, Ana._

_**Foreword: Okay! Here is the chapter in which my OC Anabell appears! Yay! I hope you like her, and, don't worry, she isn't always as optimistic as she may appear in this chapter… hope you like it!**_

_**Allons-y!**_

One

It Would Take A Miracle

_**Three weeks later…**_

Anabell Stuart was never one for favoring a quote-on-quote, 'normal life.' To her, living a normal life was close to the equivalent of living in a black and white world where everyone was exactly the same; same jobs, same clothes, similar names, dull expressions and daily routines that were scarily the same as the day before. That wasn't appealing at all. She always found ways to try and stray from what she called 'the path of normality'. Sure, they were usually small things, like going to a different coffee shop every morning for breakfast or taking a different route or mode of transportation home each night, but they made a difference for her.

Now, there was a reason that she did all of this. Anabell's life had been stuck with normal for a while. She had worked in the same pub in London for about three years now and she had been wearing similar, black waitressing uniforms for three years. Her childhood was stuck on the line between normal and interesting, shifting sides every so often. Both of her parents had worked at Scotland Yard, and whenever one of them acquired a case, that was when life strayed more towards interesting, the type of interesting that piqued Anabell's curiosity and made her want more of that life, not just a taste of it. From about the age of ten onwards, she wanted a unique life.

One particular night as she was cleaning a spot on the polished mahogany bar in the pub, she tucked a strand of unruly hair back into its place, a small sigh escaping her lips.

" Ana, I got you a newspaper like you've been asking for- nicked it off of an empty table." Commented her friend, Liz Jones. Her nickname for friends was indeed Ana, preferring that to 'Bell', which reminded her a bit too much of a certain Disney princess. Ana grinned at her friend, reaching out and taking the paper from Liz's hands and tucking her cleaning rag into the side of her waist apron.

" Thanks! God, who knew it was so hard to get a bloody newspaper once and a while?" Questioned Ana jokingly, rolling up the afore mentioned paper. Liz let out a laugh, swiping a strand of short black hair from her face.

" Well, in your life, I'm surprised you even find time to shop for groceries!" Liz teased as the two walked to the back, thankful that closing time had arrived. Ana rolled her eyes, smacking her friend with the newspaper. Ana only worked the dinner shift, which started around six and ended at about ten. She spent the majority of her free time going around the city, exploring new shops and going to museums, and reading; she absolutely adored reading. She tried to pick up a newspaper whenever possible, especially interested in recent crime reports and recently solved cases.

" Shut it, Liz. Just because I busy myself with interesting things and hanging out with my friends doesn't mean I loose time to get groceries." Ana commented with a role of her bright blue eyes. She yanked off her apron, tossing it onto her designated peg, and snatching her bright red coat. She pulled it on over her short-sleeved black button down shirt and matching black skirt, buttoning up the outdoor apparel.

Liz laughed in good nature at her friend. Liz had known Ana since high school. They were the closest friends anyone had ever had, basically sisters. She adored her best friend, but loved to tease her about things, but it was always playful, never fully serious. There had been a time where Liz had teased her about wearing the same pair of Converse every day, and that subject had lasted her about a year.

" Yeah, and why do you want the newspaper this time? To read about those suicides that were actually murders? Seems to be right up your alley, Ana! You are so obsessed with all that criminal stuff, you do know that, right?" She asked, grabbing her own black coat. Ana rolled her eyes, pulling a black knit hat from her pocket, placing it on her head. The two friends headed out into the cool evening air, walking down the street.

" Of course I know I am. I _did_ study criminology and sociology, remember?" She asked, voice a tad quiet as she repeated the statement for what seemed to be the hundredth time ever.

" I know you did. And I'm still sorry it didn't quite work out." Liz said, nudging her friend's arm. Ana had indeed attended university for criminology as well as sociology and maybe the odd course for medical sciences. But, unfortunately, after two and a half years she was forced to drop out due to financial and personal reasons. The subject was always a bit touchy for her, but she'd mostly gotten over it.

" Eh, doesn't matter too much. I've got a good job and even better friends right?" Ana said, a smile returning to her rose pink lips. Liz smiled back.

" So, you didn't answer my previous question. Why the newspaper now?"

" Well, you know how I haven't been able to keep up with the rent for my flat? Well, I kind of need to start looking for a place I can _share_ with someone and share the rent with. Figured I'd look for flat mate ads in the paper." Explained Ana as the rounded the corner where Liz's car was. What she didn't mention was that she'd been looking for about a month. Liz began to unlock the door, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

" You know you could always come stay with Robert and I." Liz told her. Robert was Liz's fiancé of about two years, the wedding only a year away. Ana smiled and shook her head.

" No, I'll let you two live in peace from my odd lifestyle. You know, different things every day and all that jazz."

" Well, do you at least want a lift home?"

" No, I took a ride from you last night. I'll walk." She gave a wave goodbye and began to head off down the street, her two-inch heels clicking on the pavement.

Ana hummed a nameless tune to herself as she passed people on the street. She gave pleasant smiles to them all, always trying to see positive things (not always succeeding), always trying to make someone's day better. She had enough of bad days in the past years of her life. She had always had the reputation to be the rather quirky girl who tried to smile through almost every situation, unless it was particularly grim and didn't deserve a smile or a laugh. She was humorous and she also was very serious at the same time. She wore interesting outfits that only she could pull off, she made smiles and laughs contagious and she was just plain interesting.

The thing was, behind the smiling and usually good attitude, there was something different. There was the sad side of her that was always there, always nagging at her, the reason she tried to smile as much as possible. The reason she acted happy when she was sad. The reason she was such a great actress. She always wanted others to be happy before she was. So she would feel like crap on the inside but appeared happy outwardly, but if that happy exterior changed someone's day, then the turmoil on the inside didn't really matter. So, she made herself feel better by being kind and optimistic, doing new things to keep away from the 'path of normality.'

Ana pulled out her iPod, putting in her earbuds, which were a bright yellow. She hit shuffle and the first song that came on was Count The Shadows by Chameleon Circuit. She smiled at the song and rounded the corner again. She then fiddled with the newspaper in her hands, desperately hoping that maybe this week she would find an ad that would be promising. The first ad she'd answered had turned out to be some man who at first seemed nice, but she got the bad feeling that he probably wasn't the best for her to move in with. So, moving on to the second ad, turned out the woman who had put it out was a tad bit obsessed with cats- she had about five. Third time's the charm, right? She certainly hoped so.

Ana ran up to her flat, most of her things already in boxes. Some were labeled keep, others were labeled toss. She flicked on the light in the kitchen and the one by the couch. She neatly tucked away her iPod and tossed her coat onto the couch along with her hat. She kicked off her shoes and lazily left them in the middle of the room. She set the newspaper on the arm of the blue couch and went to her room to change. She changed into a pair of red plaid pajama pants and a loose grey t-shirt that had a few holes in the sleeves and the hem. She then took the newspaper and a pen and went to her kitchen table to start searching the ads.

Ana began to flip through the pages, finding the right one. She began to scan the ads, brown hair falling in waves around her face, cheek leaned into her palm. She pulled the pen cap off with her teeth and circled one, sighing lightly. She circled two more and was about to give up for the night when she looked at a solitary ad in the corner. It read like this;

**Room for rent at 221b Baker Street**

** Will include a private bedroom with a shared kitchen, bathroom and living room area. Would be shared with two other flat mates and the bills and rent will be split between the three. If interested, please contact me, at this number or email.**

Both mobile number and email were listed. Ana continued to read.

**For more details, I will set up a meeting with potential takers. Thanks much,**

** John Watson**

Ana grabbed a note pad and scribbled down the number. She took her mobile and flipped it over a few times in her hands. Glancing at the watch on her wrist, she saw it was ten fifteen. She could call, but it could very well be that the man, John Watson, was asleep. She pondered the choice for another moment.

" What the hell." She muttered, dialing the number, walking to her fridge to grab a bottle of water. After a few rings she was about to hang up and cut her loses for the night. But then, the other end was picked up.

" Hello?" Asked a kind male voice. Didn't sound tired or disgruntled, so maybe he didn't mind a late call.

" Hello, is this John Watson?" She asked.

" Yes, may I ask who's calling?"

" My name is Anabell Stuart, I know this is a bit late at night, but I saw your ad in the newspaper for a flat mate. I was wondering if it still stands?" She asked, hoping that she didn't sound too eager. There was what seemed to be a disbelieving pause on the other end.

" Um, yeah, it still stands. Are you interested?" John asked.

" Yes, I am."

" That's… that's great! Could we set up a meeting for tomorrow perhaps?" John asked.

" Of course! Could you do lunch?" Ana asked.

" Yeah! I'll figure out a place to meet and I'll text you the address, sound good?"

" Of course! I'll see you tomorrow then!"

" See you tomorrow. Have a good night, Miss Stuart." John said in a happy voice. She smiled.

" Good night, Mr. Watson." She hung up and stretched. Watson… John Watson, that name sounded familiar… where did she see it before? Could it have been in a… newspaper article? No, it was somewhere online… So, pulling out her laptop, hoping it wasn't too odd to search up his name, she stumbled upon a particular blog…

O

OOO

O

_ John was pulling on his tan coat, standing up from his chair by the fireplace. Sherlock sat on the couch, violin in hands, plucking at the strings, staring at nothing and was obviously deep in thought. John made his way towards the door, but was stopped by his friend._

_ " Where are you going?" Asked Sherlock. John ran a hand over his face._

_ " I'm having lunch." John replied, facing him, praying that he wouldn't question too much. Sherlock's brow furrowed and he looked over at John, who now looked anxious to leave. Lunch? He was going out to lunch, but he could easily eat in the flat. Therefore, he must be having lunch with someone._

_ " Who are you having lunch with?"_

_ " Someone called about the flat mate ad last night, and I'm meeting them today to speak over lunch." John explained, with an exasperated sigh. Sherlock made a sound of disinterest as he stared at nothing again._

_ " They have to be interesting. And not annoying like Anderson. In fact, if they even remotely resemble Anderson in any way possible, tell them to forget about the offer." Sherlock told him. " And they can't be distracting. And-" _

_ " If they seem decent, I will bring them here to meet you and then you can run your laundry list of what they can and can't be, alright?" John said, cutting Sherlock off, opening the door. " Good bye, Sherlock!" The door shut behind him._

That was the conversation that passed between the two men just before John had left. He was now standing outside a café, hands in his pockets, looking around. He'd texted Anabell, the potential flat mate, where he was standing, and was eagerly awaiting for her arrival. Now, he knew this was going to be a challenge with Sherlock. If Anabell turned out to be their new flat mate, then it would take a hell of a load of convincing to get Sherlock to accept it. And, knowing him, he would scare her off by analyzing her right on the spot, especially now that he had no cases to work on, and the excitement of what John had called 'A Study In Pink' had died down, since it had been just about over a month ago.

Ana was walking towards the chosen café, and she spotted one man standing by the doors. He looked very kind, his blond hair reminiscent of military style. His blue eyes scanned his surroundings, his hands shoved into his green jacket pockets to keep his hands warm. She was guessing that this man was John Watson, he did tell her he'd be waiting outside the café.

John's eyesight fell on a woman who was walking towards him, her unique brown hair fluttering in the breeze. The shade of brown was lighter, with a gold and reddish sheen in the light, and her hair fell in waves that curled towards the bottom. Her coat was bright red and buttoned up with a row of silver buttons. Earrings that looked like peacock feathers but were composed completely out of beads hung from her ears, and a golden chain hung around her neck with a rose shaped pendant on it hung around her neck. She was about his height, maybe a bit taller. She smiled at him as she came closer.

" John Watson?" She asked. John smiled, nodding.

" Anabell Stuart?"

" That's me." She said, holding out a hand, and he shook it.

" I'm thrilled you're interested in the room. Shall we step inside?"

Soon the two sat at a tiny table by a window, two mugs of steaming coffee in front of them. They had both shed their jackets, enjoying the pleasant warmth of the café.

" Right, so…" John said after taking a sip of his coffee, his expression and the tone of his voice a bit awkward. Anya received the impression he didn't know what to ask or talk about in order to basically 'interview' her. She gave a comforting laugh, sweeping a strand of unruly hair away from her eyes.

" So, I should probably do a basic overview of myself." She said helpfully. He gave a nod to tell her to go on, a look of thanks washing over his kind face. " Well… let's see… I try to be fairly optimistic, I won't deny I have a temper, but that's only if I get truly upset and that doesn't happen too often. I don't seem to bother people, but I guess that would vary from person to person. I work nights at the Fox Run pub, so I usually tend to do things either at home for half the time I'm not at work and the other half I spend trying to do new things. I absolutely love books and am usually quiet. I do, however, play piano, but I don't play that often." She made a face. " I sound relatively boring…"

" No! You're a very relaxed and interesting person, which, quite frankly, is what my flat mate and I need…." John mused, running a hand over his face, which suddenly seemed tired and a bit stressed. " Mostly me though. You see… my flat mate's a bit… odd, to say the least. Interesting, really." John informed her. Ana gave a small smirk.

" His name is… Sherlock, right?" She asked, recalling the second man's name from John's blog. She'd read only the first post or two that detailed the moments he met Sherlock before turning in for the night, but he seemed definitely like an interesting man. John pulled a face of disbelief.

" How did you..?"

" This may sound odd, but I thought your name sounded familiar, and I remembered I stumbled across your blog a few weeks ago, so I pulled it back up once I remembered and read a few posts. They're all very well written, may I add." She admitted, a light pink blush spreading across her cheeks from admitting she'd looked him up. To her surprise, he smiled.

" Thank you, and yes, his name is Sherlock. He's… well… how did he put it? Oh! A high functioning sociopath. He does have a bit of trouble… well…" John was stumbling for the correct the words in order to put things lightly as not to scare Ana away, seeing as she seemed to be their best option for a flat mate.

" He has trouble playing well with other children?" Ana suggested with a small laugh. John let out a laugh as well.

" Very well put, actually." John told her, a grin plastered onto his face.

By the time they'd finished lunch, both had agreed that she would come by the next day to meet Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson, though John assured her Mrs. Hudson would love her. Both got to know each other better, and John thought she'd be perfect as a flat mate, he'd just have to convince Sherlock the same… it would take a miracle if he could.

O

OOO

O

Arriving back at 221b, John stepped inside, tossing his jacket onto the back of his chair before sitting down, relaxing. Sherlock was in the kitchen, hunched over his microscope, fiddling around with the knobs on it.

" So, is this particular person better than the others?" Sherlock asked, his deep voice a monotone.

" Yes. She'll be meeting you tomorrow." John said, waiting for Sherlock's comments. Sherlock's head snapped towards John, his eyebrows furrowing, mouth open a bit. _She?_ He thought. _John just said __she__._

" John, you said she. We cannot have a female flat mate!" Sherlock told him, standing up quickly and marching into the room, staring down at John. John wearily looked up at him, sighing.

" Remind me why? I know you've said something to the similar affect about women before, but I've forgotten."

" Women cause distractions for everyone. Whether it's what they're wearing or their hair or relationships or friends, they complain. Women can distract anyone, and I highly doubt this one will be any different." Sherlock explained, pacing. Why did John never listen?

" Sherlock, she is different. She's incredibly calm and didn't fuss once about anything when I was having lunch with her. Give her a chance, Sherlock, I think you might like her." John pleaded, his forehead creasing with worry that Sherlock would be downright against it all. Sherlock whirled to face the doctor, eyes narrowing.

" Fine. But if she complains _once_ when I meet her then she's out the door." And with that said, he marched back to the kitchen and sat down, sulkily peering into his microscope, muttering something that sounded like, " Won't be different at all…"

O

OOO

O

When the doorbell rang at 221b Baker Street the next day, all, save Sherlock, were apprehensive. John had assured Sherlock that the potential flat mate wasn't remotely like Anderson. That was one good step. Now he just had to meet them.

Ana waited on the doorstep of the flat, staring at the gold numbers on the black wooden door. She had her messenger style bag slung over her shoulder, her uniform tucked into it. She was tapping her Converse clad feet on the stone beneath her, waiting for the door to open. When it did open, the kind face of an older woman greeted her. Her hands were slightly wrinkled and her short hair was a greying shade of red and blonde. She smiled, her kindly wrinkled face lighting up with happiness.

" Oh, you must be Anabell!" She said gesturing for her to come in.

" That's me, but please, call me Ana." Ana said with a smile. She found herself pulled into a hug, and she gave a small hug back, surprised by the woman's kindness.

" I'm Mrs. Hudson the landlady. I'm so pleased you're interested in the extra room!" Mrs. Hudson said with a grin, leading Ana up a set of stairs. " I hope the boys will be kind."

" I'm sure they will, thank you, Mrs. Hudson." Said Ana as the kind landlady opened a door at the top of the stairs, gesturing for her to go in. Ana slowly stepped in, taking in the room.

Now, 221b Baker Street was a character in itself. The wall directly in front of her faced out to the street, two tall windows set into it, the wall a nice shade of green. Between the two windows a black bison skull was mounted, and a pair of headphones was placed onto it. The wall to Ana's right was wallpapered with a fleur de lys trellis pattern, which appeared to be a chocolate brown on a slightly metallic background that varied from a pale aqua and cream. The wall to her far left was brown with a similar pattern, and it housed a mirror, a fireplace, a television and a few bookshelves. A violin was propped up by one of the windows next to a music stand, obviously waiting to be played.

The mantle had an assortment of different items upon it, the most prominent one being a human skull. The bookshelves were chock full of different books, some falling off the shelves, some neatly in place, and it was completely full, a few piles of books taking residence on the floor. Some of the books seemed old with worn spines and others looked barely touched. A table sat between the windows, full of papers and various other items, including a laptop a mug, and what looked like some playing cards. The wall to her right had a skull painting mounted on it, the blank eyes staring out into nothing, a couch situated against the wall underneath it, and a cluttered coffee table sitting in front of it. Two chairs were angled towards the fireplace, the one on the left currently occupied by John, the one on the right vacant, but with a tall man standing beside it, facing the fireplace.

All in all, the flat already seemed like organized chaos, but it was comfortable and welcoming. It was a place that made Ana want to stay, and she'd only seen the front room.

Noticing her standing in the doorway, John smiled at Ana, and walked over to her, shaking her hand again.

" Good to see you again, Anabell."

" Just Ana is perfectly fine." She told him, smiling back. She removed her coat and John courteously took it and hung it on a coat rack by the door, and she placed her bag on the floor.

" Right then. Sherlock, this is Ana Stuart, Ana this is Sherlock Holmes." John introduced, walking back towards Sherlock, pausing in front of the kitchen, where Ana paused as well.

" Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes." Said Ana. Sherlock didn't look over at her. He sat there, staring at the wall, back to her.

" How recently did you break your ankle?" Sherlock asked, his deep voice resounding around the room. Ana blinked for a moment, honestly caught off guard. John immediately sighed.

" Um… Two years ago. How did you know that?" She replied. Sherlock turned and stared at her, and she returned the stare.

Sherlock was a very tall and thin man, appearing not much older than she, his body adorned in a well fitting dark purple button down, which was completely buttoned up except for the top two buttons, along with black trousers and a black suit jacket. He had pale skin that contrasted greatly with his black curly and unruly locks of hair, which fell onto his forehead. He peered at her with ice blue eyes and he had very high cheekbones.

" You hold your weight to your right leg, favoring the non injured side. It's getting better, may I add. And it was probably inflicted by a car crash." Sherlock told her, his voice staying on one tone and constantly peering at her.

Her brown hair was swept behind her ears, a pair of earrings that looked like dragons wrapping around the outside of her ears able to be clearly seen. Her sweater was a tad too big, Sherlock noticed, and immediately he began to make deductions about who she was.

" Sherlock, Ana would like to rent out the spare room." John said to break the relatively awkward silence.

" Obviously." Sherlock said with a roll of his eyes. He looked back to Ana. Her fingers toyed with the sides of her jeans, and he guessed that was a nervous habit. " You're nervous." It had been a statement, not a question. She let out a small laugh, a smile pulling at her lips.

" Of course I am, I've been looking to rent a flat for a few months, I'm just hoping to not come off a socially awkward." She said. Sherlock glanced at John.

" Has John told you about me?"

" Yes. And I find it extremely interesting about how you observe things, Mr. Holmes." She said honestly. He smirked. " However nervous I admit I am to ask this, what can you observe about me?"

" Not many people are happy with what I say I find." Sherlock said in a monotone, already looking her over at rapid speed.

" Go ahead." Ana said. John internally groaned as he shut his eyes, waiting for the worst.

His eyes quickly flitted over her form as well as her coat and bag a few feet away. The bagginess of her clothes suggested self-image issues, and she was defensive, he could see that by the way she now had her arms crossed over her chest. There was a callous on the fourth finger of her right hand, obviously a writing callous. He also caught a look of a nametag attached to a black shirt in her bag along with a newspaper flipped to an article about the case he'd just solved (causing him to smirk mentally). He also caught sight of a museum pamphlet and he took in the unique earrings and the odd necklace and watch she wore. Her shoes were old and worn, and he could guess they were a few years old. His gaze snapped back up to her blue eyes.

" Alright then. You're in your mid to late twenties, I'd say… twenty seven. You live alone here in London, are having financial troubles and work at that pub a few streets down. You don't own a car and usually walk anywhere you go. You write a considerable amount by hand, probably in a journal or for leisure, but also writing down orders when you waitress at work. You enjoy visiting museums and reading about crime. You hate blending in, so you take small measures to stand out. You come off as very optimistic and kind, which you are, but there's a side to you that you don't like people seeing." Sherlock said, stepping a bit closer. Ana's face went dead serious all of a sudden, not sure if she was going to be okay with what he said next. " You always worry about a number of things whether it be work or friends or relationships, however you never say anything about it out loud, which is a bit strange. You have considerably low self-image, but you've managed to keep your confidence high regardless, which is tough to do. You had something rather tragic happen to you when you were younger, probably the death of a parent, maybe both. You try to keep your worries and your pain hidden away, but every once and a while when something bothers you just a bit to much you snap and that results in a temper, am I wrong?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head to the side, staring at her.

Ana was silent. She stared up at him, being maybe only a few inches taller than John, she still had to stare up at Sherlock. Her eyes were a tad glazed, her breathing slightly ragged.

_ Obviously what I said effected her. Good. I was right. _He thought to himself. She blinked a few times and let out a breath. John had his hand over his eyes, shaking his head. Sherlock had gone and scared off the only person who would probably ever consider taking the room. Mrs. Hudson stood in the doorway, a sad look on her face. Sherlock waited for an answer, an eyebrow raised. Then, through the tense silence, Ana spoke.

" Amazing. You got all of that right." She said quietly, much to everyone's surprise. At the least, everyone expected her to say 'piss off' as most people did. " May I ask how you knew?" Sherlock had been hoping she'd ask. He began to explain.

" You obviously live alone because why else would you be looking to rent a flat? Also, I know you have financial troubles because you're looking to share the rent. As for where you work, you're name tag is pinned to your bag and it has the logo of the pub a few blocks down on it, and seeing as the clothes that are stuck inside are black, you're a waitress. The shoes on your feet are old worn on the soles showing that you do a considerable amount of walking, in fact, you walked here today from your flat. There's a callous on the fourth finger of your right hand right where a pen or pencil would rest if you were writing, therefore, you write a good amount. There is a pamphlet sticking out of your bag from the London museum and the newspaper in your bag is turned to an article on a recently solved crime. You're earrings are extremely unique, and that shows you want people to notice them, but maybe only get a passing comment, because too much attention and you get a bit uncomfortable. As for how I know you worry and have low self-image, the way you stand betrays it- you hold yourself in a defensive position, and you're clothes are all a size too big, it's like you're trying to hide. However, you hold your head high and push through, showing how confident you really are. Now, the watch on your wrist is obviously a man's watch, most likely your father's. You wear it every day due to the ware on the inside of it. The necklace around your neck doesn't appear to be your style, so it was probably your mother's, and you also wear it every day. The only reason you'd wear both those items every day is if both of them had died, most likely one when you were younger and one more recently. Now, as for the temper, as I was speaking, you clenched your jaw and shut your eyes as if you were holding back a shout, which you repressed. You were controlling your temper. Did I miss anything?" Sherlock explained, then once more ended with a question. Everyone watched her as she blinked a few times.

A small smirk appeared on her face.

" I'm actually just about to turn twenty seven and I do work at Fox Run as a waitress, which is only a few blocks away. All of that was right. My mother died of a heart attack when I was sixteen. My father died of a fatal gunshot wound about four years ago, which was one of the reasons I had to stop attending university." Ana said, taking a deep breath.

" I'm so sorry…" John said quietly. She gave him a sad smile.

" It's okay, his job had that risk. I got to say goodbye though, he died in the hospital." Sherlock, who had one arm crossed over his torso, the other hand resting on his chin, snapped his attention over her, another connection being made.

" Your father, was he a police officer?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

" Worked for Scotland Yard, both of my parents did." She said.

" You went to university to try and work for Scotland Yard, didn't you? That would explain such an interest in the crime articles." Sherlock said. She smirked.

" You really don't miss a thing, do you?"

" Not particularly, no."

Ana let out a laugh, her mood returned to the way it had been before, once more surprising everyone in the room.

" Absolutely amazing." Ana commented. Sherlock gave her a look, brow creased. Only one other person had responded this way… and it had been John.

" You think so? Not many people believe that and say differently."

" And what would they say?"

" Piss off." Said John and Sherlock at the same time. She smiled and stifled a laugh pretty well. Sherlock looked at her once more before turning and striding across the room to pick up his violin.

" Now, I play the violin when I think and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other." Sherlock said, grabbing the bow for the violin. John stared at his friend's back in disbelief. He was actually… okay with Ana? This had to be a miracle, an absolute miracle. At first, when John had mentioned that their potential flat mate was, in fact, female, Sherlock protested greatly that 'women can distract anyone, and I highly doubt this one will be any different.' So this was definitely a miracle. The only question was, is Ana okay with Sherlock being as nosy and prying as he is?

Ana smiled a bit.

" That doesn't bother me one bit." She told him, effectively shocking everyone in the room for a third time.

" Good." Was all Sherlock said in reply, staring out the window, slowly lifting his violin.

" So… you'll be taking the room?" John asked slowly and cautiously. She looked over to him and grinned.

" You've got yourself a new flat mate." Ana told him. He grinned back, visibly relaxing. " Than you, Mrs. Hudson, Mr. Watson, Mr. Holmes."

" Oh, call me John. Call him Sherlock as well, no need to formalities if we're going to be flat mates. You can start moving in whenever convenient as well as sign a few papers." John said. Ana gave a nod and checked her watch.

" Sounds great- I'll start bringing stuff by tomorrow. I'll have to go though, need to get to work. Thank you again!" She said walking to the door, receiving another hug from Mrs. Hudson as she grabbed her coat and bag. " Good bye Mrs. Hudson, John, Sherlock."

He then looked away, face stoic once more, and he dragged the bow across the strings, playing a melody. Ana shook her head in disbelief, stepping out of the door, not sure of what she might have just gotten herself into.

After Ana left, John stared at Sherlock, honestly pondering his change of heart.

" Sherlock, you just accepted to letting a woman be our new flat mate, what changed?" He asked, sitting down and grabbing his newspaper. Sherlock paused in his playing and glanced back at him.

" She intrigues me. You were right, there is something different about her… I don't know what, but I think that maybe I'll be able to figure out what…" And with that said, he dragged the bow across the strings, strains sounding throughout 221b as John rolled his eyes and looked down to his newspaper.

And so began the beginning of a great adventure, all brought on by moving into the flat of 221b Baker Street.

_**Afterword:**__** Wow! There is chapter one! I'm really unsure if this is good or not, so… yeah. I spent about a week writing and rewriting this so I hope it came off okay! I also hope Ana doesn't seem too perfect, cause I know in this chapter she seems maybe a bit too optimistic, but trust me, you'll see a sarcastic side to her and a serious and even an angry side to her if you stick around to read more!**_

_** Please review! I'd like to know if I should continue this or not! I'd love to, but I'm a bit scared to XD I'd also like to know how you like it, and, if you'd like to read more. Please, nice reviews, by the way, those make me confident and happy =) Thanks for reading!**_

_**~ Mary**_


	3. Two: So, She's Curious

_Disclaimer: __I do NOT own Sherlock (the show or original ideas by Arthur Conan Doyle) or any of the characters as much as I would LOVE to. I only own my OC, Ana._

Two

So, She's Curious...

221b Baker Street had four main floors. The first was the ground floor where Mrs. Hudson resided along with the door to 221c was. Up two short sets of stairs, the second floor was the living room, kitchen and shared bathroom. The next floor was the floor that housed both John and Sherlock's rooms. Then the top floor was now home to Ana, as well as a spare room that was more of a small walk-in closet type room with a window, which was now a storage room. As promised, the next day Ana arrived and moved her things in with John's help, seeing as Sherlock had disappeared for the day, most likely to Bart's where he would no doubt be performing experiments on unsuspecting cadavers.

Ana's room had grey-blue walls, the color of a stormy sea. She made a mental note to buy curtains, seeing as the wooden shades were crooked and cracking. A full sized bed covered in dark blue blankets was pressed against the wall by the door, a short bedside table made of varnished driftwood sat beside it. A reading lamp sat on the bedside table along with a clock. A small dresser was in the corner of the room right next to two bookshelves, each shelf filled with books. Pictures in plain frames hung on the walls. They were pictures of Ana and her mother and father. The most recent picture was of her and her father five years back when they visited Ireland. A full sized keyboard also sat in the room, a few music books sitting on the floor beside it. Those were about the only items she'd brought with her along with her clothes, but she hoped to gain new things to add to the room.

Around noon, Ana slumped down to the living room after finally putting the last of her things away. John was sitting and watching television from his chair, a rather bored look on his face. She dropped herself onto the couch, letting out a large breath of air. Her hair was in a tangled ponytail and her cheeks were a rose pink from moving things around. Her tank top was wrinkled and her jeans were worn at the knees. She was beginning to relax for the first time in about a month. She didn't have to worry about rent anymore. She was able to focus on other things now, like maybe being able to go horseback riding again for the first time in four months, or trying to get back to school.

" Would you like some water?" John asked, walking over, already holding out a glass of water. She smiled up at him and gratefully took it.

" Thanks much." She said sipping it. John returned the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was a cute and kind little smile, one that made her think of a conversation Liz had forced upon her the night before.

_ " So? How'd it go?" Asked Liz. Ana chuckled, sweeping her hair back into a bun._

_ " It was tedious at moments. But, I have a new place to live and two interesting flat mates and a wonderful landlady." Explained Ana as she tied her apron around her waist. Liz let out a sly smirk._

_ " So, earlier I decided to look up those two guys…" Liz began, earning a groan from Ana._

_ " Oh, God, Liz!"_

_ " Hey! I'm basically your sister, I had to. And hey, maybe you'll even get a boyfriend out of this." She teased, Ana quickly walking away, only to be trailed after. " I'm teasing, I'm teasing! Although, it's entirely possible. But, hey, it's great you found a place!"_

_ Ana smiled at her friend, straightening her skirt out. She could guess the next question to exit her friend's mouth._

_ " So, are they cute?"_

_ " We should get coffee sometime."_

_ " Oh my God, they are! Which one do you think is beyond cute? Which one do you consider… hot?"_

_ " Hey, is that a new headband?"_

Ana rolled her eyes at the thought of her friend. Liz would torment her to no end about this. As John moved to sit back down, Ana began to let her mind wander. 'So, are they cute?' Liz's voice echoed in her head. Had she replied she would have said, 'You saw the pictures, apparently, of course they are!' And now Ana was admitting she thought her flat mates were cute. But… hot? Well…

_ No, no! You will not think about that! You've only just met them! Besides, the best you'd ever be with one of them is a friend._ She told herself, setting down her glass of water. After doing such, something caught her eye. She knew she'd seen it on coming into the flat the day before, but now it fully seemed to make it into her head what she was seeing. Standing, she walked around the coffee table and towards the mantelpiece above the fireplace. She froze just in front of it and looked down to John. She pointed to what she'd been looking at.

" A human skull." She said. John nodded, a knowing sigh escaping his chest.

" Yeah. Sherlock talks to it. Says it's his 'friend'."

" A bit like Hamlet, huh?" Joked Ana. " Is it… Is it real?"

" I'm not really sure, but knowing Sherlock it could very well be."

" Oh."

Ana shook her head with a small laugh before turning away to look at the bookshelves to her right. The shelves were warping and bending slightly under the weight of the books, but it was barely noticeable. The books ranged from books on science to various other books that didn't seem like they would belong with medical books. She pulled out a book that was about poisons. She skimmed through before placing it back, smirking. Well, it didn't seem like Sherlock was a boring man, so life was bound to be exciting, right?

" John, did you get the shopping done?" Asked Sherlock as he sauntered in through the door, shrugging off his long, black, trench coat. He shoved his gloves into the pockets and hung it up on a hook on the back of the door along with his dark blue scarf.

" Uh… no, I was helping Ana move her things in." John said gesturing over to Ana, who was skimming over another book. She gave a wave, not looking up.

" Shame. I was actually going to eat something." Sherlock muttered, settling himself down on the couch, drumming his long, pale fingers on the arm of the chair. There was a pause in the conversation before John sighed and stood.

" I guess I'll go now then."

" Good." Came Sherlock's absent-minded response. John grabbed his jacket before exiting the living room, the floors creaking beneath his feet. There was a tense pause in the air between Sherlock and Ana as the two stood the length of the room apart. Ana quietly shut the book she'd been looking over and put it back where she'd found it.

" I put all your books back where they should be, don't worry." Ana told him, feeling his eyes staring at her back. She turned and faced him; leaning against the back of what she presumed was Sherlock's chair, which sat to the right of the fireplace. Sherlock raised a brow at the words she'd just spoken.

" How do you know they're all my books? John's bound to have some." Sherlock asked. Ana smirked.

" Easy. I saw the bookshelves in John's room, and even if I hadn't…" She pulled out the book on poisons and held it up. " Judging off of what I read from you're website, you probably consulted this a few times." She said before placing the book back again.

" You read my website?" Sherlock asked.

" Of course I did. It's interesting, really. I've decided to keep up with both yours and John's websites, and I'm still reading through some of your stuff." She said, smiling at him after retrieving her now empty glass of water and heading towards the kitchen. But, she wasn't out of the room before she saw a small smirk pull at the corner of Sherlock's lips.

She set the glass in the sink and then began to head back towards the door so she could change into a different shirt. As she passed Sherlock, who now had his fingertips pressed together and touching his chin, she said,

" By the way, great job on the Study in Pink." Then she exited the room.

Sherlock glanced after her, eyebrow quirking. 'Study in Pink'? What the hell was she talking about? Thinking back on what she'd been talking about a thought came to mind. John's blog. Was John naming the cases? And if he was, if people would refer to them as what John named them, it might get a bit annoying. However, he was right about her being different. She was actually fairly considerate seeing as she made sure all the books were put back in their respective places. She also seemed to be interested in what both he and John were doing, which was actually... nice seeing as not many people bothered to find out. Stretching out his long legs, he continued to think of experiments that he could do down at Bart's...

Ana reentered the room a few minutes later now wearing a plain red t-shirt with a black vest siting comfortably over it. She had brushed through her hair so it sat in nice waves around her shoulders. She sat at the table in the room, gently picking up a piece of hand written sheet music, scanning it over with her eyes. She mentally picked up the notes and quietly hummed them, picking up Sherlock's attention again. So, she read music. His eyes were drawn to her right hand where her fingers seemed to twitch in a pattern. So, she played piano then. Her long fingers were perfect for that, actually. It was then he noted that her nails were actually pained a dark blue, the paint chipping off at the tips, probably from work when she handled plates, glasses, trays and order papers.

Sherlock suddenly stood, striding over to the door to pull his jacket from its hook before pulling it on. Ana looked up, eyebrow lifting.

" Where are you going?" She asked in an almost suspicious manor. Just reading about Sherlock already gave her suspicions about him. He could have been, at that moment, preparing to go bust some... she didn't know... some secret... _drug ring_ or whatever, and he could be acting nonchalant about it.

" I left my riding crop at the morgue." He stated simply. Ana set down the sheet music.

" Your riding crop? If you need a riding crop, you can borrow mine, it's up in my room." She said, standing. He glanced over at her. Glancing over her again, he could see her sitting atop a horse very easily. She'd make a great dressage rider, but never mind that. Sherlock was surprised that she wasn't questioning why his riding crop was at a morgue, but then again, she was becoming a mystery in itself.

" No, I need mine. If I leave it there then it'll probably get thrown away." Said Sherlock as he looped his scarf around his pale neck. He turned to face her, gloves in hand. " If you're going to come, do retrieve your coat quickly, I'll be hailing a cab and if you're not downstairs by the time I'm inside it I'm not going to be prone to hold it for you." He then turned on his heel, walking out the door. Making his way downstairs, he heard Ana's footsteps hastily running up the steps. As he finished pulling on his gloves a smirk drew on his face. So, she was curious. That was good.

Ana came dashing down the stairs as she tugged on the uncooperative coat, which tangled around her arms like a rope trap. She practically jumped the last set of stairs, running to the door, throwing it open, stepping out, slamming it shut and making it to the taxi just before Sherlock was about to shut the door. Ana's hand seized the shutting door and she smiled at him as she climbed in.

" Made it." She commented as the taxi began to pull away from the curb. After a moment of fairly comfortable silence, she asked, " So, why is your riding crop at a morgue?" Sherlock looked over the empty space between them to look at her. She had a curious look on her face, but she didn't seem like she was dreading the answer or that she thought it odd that his riding crop was in the most odd place said item should be. She was just... intrigued. He looked back out the window at the passing buildings.

" I was conducting an experiment earlier in the day that dealt with postmortem bruising. The riding crop was the best option to cause the damage that needed to be dealt and I accidentally left it there." Sherlock explained, not bothering to look over towards her. Ana smiled a bit. Sure, it was an unorthodox way to examine postmortem bruising, there were many other ways to do such as she'd learned in the few medical classes she'd attended, but then again, he was an unorthodox kind of man.

" Very creative, I have to say. Not traditional in anyway, but it must give good results, right?" Ana said, smiling over at him. When he turned his head to look at her, his brow was creased.

" Yes. You seem oddly calm about this entire ordeal." He said, causing her to laugh a bit. She gave a shrug, causing her hair to fall behind her shoulders.

" Just because something is different doesn't make it wrong or weird. I learned that a long time ago, and it helps see life in a better way." Ana told him, and then she looked out the window, leaving Sherlock to his own thoughts.

When they arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, Sherlock paid the cabbie and both he and Ana stepped out into the chilly air, heading towards the entrance of the oldest hospital in London. Ana followed Sherlock's tall form to the morgue, where he instantly froze when he walked into the door. A tall man with greying hair was standing over a body bag with his hands in the pockets of his black coat. A shorter woman with brown hair with dark-honey colored highlights stood beside him, a clipboard in hand and she was wearing a white doctor-like coat. Both looked up at the sound of a shutting door.

" Lestrade? What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, face scrunching a bit. The man, Lestrade, rolled his eyes, giving him a sardonic look.

" What am I doing in a morgue? I thought you would have been able to deduct that in a matter of seconds. I'm working on a case, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

" Of course. You know where to call when you get stuck." Sherlock said, continuing to stride into the room, Ana awkwardly following behind him, now not entirely sure why she came along.

" We won't get stuck."

" You almost always do." Sherlock deadpanned, turning to the woman. " My riding crop, I left it here earlier, where is it?"

_Well, that wasn't demanding._ Ana thought sarcastically, laughing silently.

" Oh! I, um... I, uh, I put it over there." The woman stuttered, smiling up at him, pointing to a table behind him. He spun on his heel and went to the stainless-steel table, grabbing the riding crop. Molly looked down, brushing a strand of hair from her face, blushing a bit. Lestrade's eyes drifted over to Ana and a look of confusion crossed his features, his mouth pulling downwards.

" Who's she?" He asked, pointing to Ana.

" This is Anabell Stuart, my new flat mate." Sherlock said. He gestured to Lestrade and the woman. " This is Detective Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard, and this is Molly Hooper, she works here at Bart's." He said. Lestrade reached a hand out and Ana shook it with a smile.

" Nice to meet you." He said, returning her smile kindly.

" Same to you. My parents used to work for Scotland Yard." She said. He raised his eyebrows.

" Really? I thought your last name sounded a bit familiar..."

" I doubt you knew them, but then again, I could be wrong." She turned to Molly and smiled, holding out her hand. Molly timidly shook it, a nervous smile crossing her face. " Pleasure to meet you."

" Nice to meet you too." She said quietly, holding her clipboard to her chest. " So, you've... you've moved in with Sherlock?" Ana nodded. " That's uh... that's nice."

" We should go now, John'll be returning with groceries." Ana said. Sherlock was already heading for the door. With a shake of her head and a good-natured laugh, she turned and began to follow, sending a, " Great meeting you both!" Over her shoulder.

As the pair began to head out of the hospital, Sherlock gave a groan as they passed a woman with extremely curly brown hair, caramel colored skin, and wearing a very nice grey suit-like ensemble. She stopped and glared at Sherlock.

" Freak." She muttered sounding rather peeved.

" Donovan." Sherlock replied, sounding equally as annoyed. Ana looked between the two, sensing the tension. The two were having a glare-off, so it seemed, and she had a feeling the two have had many disagreements in the past, hence a tension so thick someone could cut it with a knife. Donovan's eyes slid to Ana.

" Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

" I'm Anabell Stuart." Ana said, answering for Sherlock. " I'm his new flatmate." The woman held out a hand.

" Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan. Has he roped you into anything incredibly stupid yet?" She asked, as she shook Ana's hands.

" No, why, should I be worried?" Ana asked jokingly as Sherlock stalked off to hail a cab. Donovan's expression turned deathly serious.

" He's a _psychopath_. Stay away from him. He's already ruined that doctor guy who moved in a month ago. He'll ruin your life. He gets off on solving crimes. But, I assure you, that won't be enough one day and we'll be standing around a dead body, and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there." Donovan warned her, just like she'd warned John. Ana's smile fell at her words. She knew Sherlock was widely different than any other person she'd ever met, but a potential killer? Not a chance.

" I can't see that. He may get excited by the crimes, but I don't think he'd be willing to commit one." As Ana began to walk away, she turned so she was walking backwards. " Oh, and I believe he's a high functioning sociopath, not a psychopath. Just saying!" And with that, she stood with Sherlock to wait for a cab.

Donovan sighed and shook her head, walking into Bart's.

_He's gonna ruin her life..._

O

OOO

O

Sitting in the cab on the way back to Baker Street, had her head rested against the window.

" So, I'm guessing I just met a few of your friends then?" She asked.

" No, not friends. Colleagues. None of them really like me. Then again, that's usually because whenever they call me in, I'm always right when they're not." Sherlock replied. Ana nodded.

" Right, you're a... what are you exactly?" She asked, looking over at him.

" A consulting detective, the world's only one at that. I created the job. The police come to me when they're out of their depth, which is always." He explained in a monotone, blue eyes still staring out the window. Ana laughed.

" Always?"

" Yes, always. Donovan and I have never gotten along, Lestrade and Molly are tolerable."

Ana smothered a laugh. From what she could tell, Molly really liked Sherlock, who seemed oblivious to said fact; the woman could barely look at him without blushing! However, maybe he was able to use the fact she liked him to his advantage, like being able to get away with practically demanding something and getting away with it.

Arriving back at 221b, John was already back and was now watching telly, which seemed exceedingly boring. Sherlock walked back into the living room, shedding his coat, scarf and gloves, and just as Ana was about to do the same, she caught a glance of the clock.

" Shit!" She practically yelled before running up the steps towards her room. John raised an eyebrow as he looked over at Sherlock, who was spinning his riding crop around in one hand.

" She has to get ready for work." Sherlock explained. John nodded.

" So, where did you two go exactly?" John questioned. As a reply, Sherlock lifted the riding crop, earning a sigh from his friend.

Minutes later, Ana ran back down the steps in her uniform, her stockings a bit wrinkled and as she paused on the landing she pulled her shoes on and tied back her hair.

" I have to go to work, I'll be back late, don't wait up for me!" She called as a goodbye before she yanked her coat on and bolted down the steps as fast as a strike of lightning.

O

OOO

O

Work was hell for Ana.

The day she'd been having had been was exhausting. She moved into her new room, joined Sherlock on an outing where she met a few interesting characters, and now she was having an incredibly boring time serving customers, who all seemed to have taken a pill that made them all rude. However, there had been one man who had been polite enough and he sat alone in the corner of the room, an umbrella resting beside him despite the fact it hadn't rained that day. As she brought him a cup of tea and turned to leave, he said;

" May I ask that you take a seat for a moment?" She turned and looked over at him, a shocked look on her face. Did he actually ask her that?

The man seemed to be tall, but she couldn't be sure when he was sitting down. He held his chin high and his back was ramrod straight. His suit jacket was grey and held no wrinkle or crease, and his white button down shirt was buttoned to the very top, causing his neck to look long and a red silk tie was knotted ever-so perfectly underneath the pressed collar. His light blue eyes were sharp and looked familiar, though she couldn't place why. His hairline was farther back on his forehead and his brown hair was parted on the side and combed perfectly. He had a long nose that he peered down whenever he glanced down at his foot or his cup.

" Um... No, I can't I'm still working..." She muttered, getting a tiny bit weirded-out by this man. She turned and began to walk away.

" Miss Stuart." The man stated. She froze. He knew her last name. She didn't say her last name, and her name tag didn't say it either. " Please, only for a moment. I just need to ask you about Sherlock Holmes." That kept her from moving even if she wanted to move.

_Okay, this could be potentially bad. _She thought to herself. _I should just walk away, tell my boss about this and leave work early with Liz. _She looked around to see if anyone was looking, which no one was... and then she turned back around, held her chin high and sat down across from the man. He gave her a smile, a smile she didn't return.

" Alright, I'm sitting down." She said.

" I can see that. So, may I ask you how you met Sherlock Holmes?"

" Why on earth would you want to know that?" Ana questioned, crossing her arms. The man chuckled, sipping at his tea.

" Don't think I'm going to break, I've gone through this before, quite recently too. I'm... an interested party I suppose you could say." The man said. Ana rolled her eyes. She really shouldn't answer anything he's asking. He could be a psychotic killer after Sherlock for revenge and was willing to kill her to get to him.

" I met him because I moved into the same flat as him." She replied.

_Are you insane! Yes, you are! You just told him that you moved in with him! You've got a death wish, Ana..._ She thought to herself as she rubbed her temples. The man raised an eyebrow at the almost self-loathing look that crossed her face.

" I see. I do believe that he said he didn't like having women around, he said they were a distraction." He said.

" I guess I'm an exception then."

" It would appear so. Now, I have a proposition for you." He folded his hands formally on the table as she slouched backwards into the chair she sat in. " I am willing to pay you to keep an eye on Sherlock Holmes for me." Ana let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. She was honestly wondering if this was a joke that she was being subjected to. He couldn't be serious, could he? Yet, the look in his eyes and on his face said otherwise.

" Do you know him?" " Yes, I could say I do."

" Why don't you do it?"

" I'm the closest thing he has to a friend. I'm his enemy." He replied. Ana's face went dead serious as she straightened up.

" Sherlock doesn't trust you?" The man shook his head. " Then why the hell should I?"

" Miss Stuart, you wanted to join Scotland Yard, did you not?" Ana's face went shocked as her jaw tightened drastically, which he noticed and he smirked. " Yes, you've only spent less than a full day with him and it brings you back to the times where you almost got to join the thrill of the chase like your parents. With him, you're beginning to see that you could taste that thrill if you stick beside him."

" What are you talking about? How do you know that I almost joined Scotland Yard? Who are you?" She asked stiffly.

" And there's you holding back your temper. You shouldn't hold it back so often, it isn't healthy. Now, can I count on you to accept my offer?" He replied.

" No. If he doesn't trust you, I'm not going to. I trust his judgement."

" So quick to trust, that can be dangerous."

" It doesn't matter, I can take care of myself, Sir. Now, would you kindly finish your tea, pay and leave?" Ana asked as she stood, holding herself tall. He smiled.

" And you would have made a very good addition to Scotland Yard. Welcome to the Chase, Anabell Stuart. Do keep safe and remember my offer." The man said pulling some money from his wallet and setting it on the table. He nodded his head towards her before grabbing his umbrella and striding from the restaurant, disappearing into the darkened streets.

Ana stared after him, completely shocked. One thing was for sure, life would never become boring when Sherlock Holmes was your new flat mate.

_**Afterword: **__**And there is chapter two! Hope it was okay! I know it's probably a bit boring, but I wanted a chapter where Ana met a lot of the characters, so sorry if it's just a bit off (and yes, she hasn't met Anderson yet, I'm still thinking of how they meet, if you have a suggestion, please, do tell!) And I know that her meeting Mycroft is practically the same as John meeting him, but, hey, the guy is persistent. Also, I do have a Polyvore to make all of Ana's outfits, so the link is on my profile to any interested person!**_

_** Time to thank and respond to my reviewers!**_

__**grapejuice101**: _Thanks for reviewing! Glad you like the story so far! Hope the chapter was okay! And thanks for checking out my Polyvore set for the fist chapter!_

**Phalen Rhude:** _Thanks! I'm really glad to hear that you think I captured Sherlock well! It's one of my main concern that I won't capture him the right way and that he'll seem off. Thanks again for reviewing!_

**Marzipan**: _I agree with you! I'm Wholocked as well! I love David and Benedict! They are probably my top two favorite actors! XD I found a picture of the two of them together and I practically spazzed out and went all fangirl and probably scared whoever I was sitting next to XD I'm actually in the progress of writing up the first chapter for a Doctor Who fanfiction! And I'm glad you've liked the story so far! Thanks for reviewing!_

_**And thanks to everyone who has also added this to favorites or story alert!**_

_**Also, next chapter should be the beginning of The Blind Banker if that gives anyone motivation to keep reading!**_

_** So, I'd love more reviews to let me know how I'm doing! Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Reviews make me happy and keep me motivated! Thanks again you guys! Please review!**_

_**~Mary**_


	4. Three: The Blind Banker

_Disclaimer: I do NOT own Sherlock (the show or original ideas by Arthur Conan Doyle) or any of the characters as much as I would LOVE to. I only own my OC, Ana._

_**Foreword: The beginning may seem repetitive, sorry 'bout that! I just wanted to get the thoughts of Sherlock, John and Ana about her arrival at 221b. Anyway, read away!**_

_**Allons-y!**_

Three

The Blind Banker

The next few weeks passed by rather swiftly. Ana slowly got used to Sherlock's habits, which sometimes included playing the violin at around two in the morning. It also included having bags of human bits in the fridge; the first time she'd discovered that, she'd just woken up about four days after moving in. She had shuffled down into the kitchen, her feet scuffing gently against the wooden floors, and made her way into the kitchen with a small wave to both Sherlock and John, who had been up for the best part of two hours. In all due respects, Ana looked like she had literally just threw off the covers and walked out of her room; her hair was tangled and messy and her white pajama shirt was wrinkled, as were her red pajama bottoms.

All she had wanted was the milk. When she opened the fridge, the first thing she saw was a zip-lock bag full of bloody human toes. She blanched as she stared at them, but she didn't scream or faint, she just stared. Ana carefully reached out and lifted the fairly heavy bag and turned to face the two men in the living room.

" _Toes?_ Human toes?" She asked. A look of what seemed like painful realization crossed John's tired face. God, he should have warned her about that. He slowly looked over to her, mouth quirked to one side, his eyes clearly apologizing to her. Sherlock merely glanced over at her and rolled his icy looking eyes.

" Yes, you are correct, those are human toes." He muttered as he continued to type on his laptop.

" But… why are they in the refrigerator?" She asked, continuing to stare at the bag in her hands.

" It's for an experiment, I have yet to start it so I'm keeping them cold. Got them from Bart's last night." Sherlock explained. Ana gave a curt nod before placing the bag gingerly back onto the almost bare shelf in the fridge before grabbing the milk and shutting the door.

After that day, she was no longer surprised to find fingers or even hands in the fridge, and though she found it odd and slightly unhealthy, she let it be. John began to believe that Ana was an angel sent to help him deal with Sherlock. Of course that wasn't true, but it certainly seemed like it. She was never afraid to tell Sherlock when enough was enough. If he began to touch on a subject she didn't want to speak about she told him to stop, and if he didn't, she would either threaten to hit him with something, abruptly change the subject or sometimes just stand and leave. The first time she had actually just up and left, she'd shocked both John and Sherlock. In fact, every time she told him to stop it shocked them enough to actually make Sherlock stop.

And, just as Ana got used to life with the consulting detective and the ex-military doctor, both men got used to life with Ana around. At first it was, of course, awkward. Small talk was hard to think of and when it was brought up it was short and usually was followed by awkward silences. However, after the first week, everything began to become more natural and fluid as they all got to know each other better. Sherlock didn't seem to change his demeanor much, but was clearly more comfortable with Ana around. It had also become another agreement that Ana was the only one who ever helped John with the shopping. She either joined him or she would go for him. Another thing that Ana always seemed to say before she left for work was 'don't wait up for me'.

The first night she moved in, the first night she'd said that, Ana had been moderately surprised when both men were still awake when she came home, but the two appeared to be arguing. The bickering stopped when John noticed the look on Ana's face, which was clearly troubled. When asked what was wrong (by John, honestly, Sherlock probably could have cared less), she told them about the man in the restaurant. That immediately caught Sherlock's interest and John let out a sigh as the two explained that the man had been Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's older brother. That didn't make things better for Ana, she just shook her head and folded her coat over her arm.

" I don't care if he's your brother, he scared the hell out of me. I thought he'd try to kill me the moment I stepped out of the pub…" She'd muttered much to Sherlock's amusement, which had caused him to actually chuckle. Ana caught the sound before heading upstairs to change. She smiled.

Sherlock was surprised. Ana was definitely a different woman. He still wasn't sure why, but she just was. She didn't clutter the bathroom with mindless feminine products; just her shampoo and conditioner and a very small bottle of lotion that didn't have an overpowering scent. He was surprised yet impressed when she would tell him to stop and say he'd gone too far, which she was never afraid to say. She also didn't seem to mind when he would correct her and wouldn't bother him when he was pensive. He was mildly impressed, but, of course, never really showed it. He still had a few doubts, but he knew he would either guess the doubts right or dismiss them by the time the next case rolled around.

It was mid March and that particular day, John was getting ready to head to the market to pick up groceries for the bare cabinets and practically empty refrigerator. He left with a small handwritten list in his hands, leaving Sherlock to sit in his chair, a bored expression settling on his face, which was slowly becoming permanent.

" Sherlock, I have letters for you." Ana said as she handed him a small wad of letters. He groaned as his fingers touched the envelopes.

" None of these are worth my while." He said tossing them over his shoulder where they landed in a scattered mess on the worn carpet. Ana rolled her eyes with a smirk.

" Have you done anything about that case about the uh… the diamond? That seemed pretty interesting." Ana mentioned, beginning to pull a brush through her damp hair. Sherlock let out another sigh, his head lolling backwards and stretching his feet out in front of him. " I'll take that as a 'not yet, Ana, thank you for asking'." She teased before heading to the bathroom to continue to fix her hair.

That was another interesting think about her; she wasn't obsessed with her looks, which was extremely nice. She didn't spend too much time on perfecting her outfits or her hair, and Sherlock also noticed she didn't wear any make-up beyond mascara and natural shades of eye shadow and lip-gloss. He had added those things to his mental list of things about her that were different, and he didn't know why he'd even started said list, he just immediately began to.

Sherlock groaned and anxiously ruffled his messy black hair, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. He was just so _bored!_ Boredom had been creeping into his life even more recently since he finished the cabbie case. It was like a toothache. It never went away, and when it disappeared and returned, it was even stronger than before! His thought process was being interrupted by it as well. He found himself analyzing anything he could. As he was allowing himself to wallow in something close to self pity, there was a loud crash as the living room door was flung open and Sherlock jumped up, facing the figure who decided to possible create a hole in his wall.

Ana had finished brushing through her thick hair, causing the waves to straighten out in the very slightest, and was now fixing her clothes, which had ridden up and wrinkled when she was coming downstairs. She was straightening out her tank top, which was black with thin straps, but on the bust a pattern of roses and flowers covered it in bright shades of pinks and reds, a few flowers even trailing down the stomach on the shirt. On the back it was laced like a corset seeing as it was, in fact, a corset style top. Around the laces roses were detailed and one of the reasons Ana liked the shirt was the fact that it wasn't extremely low cut for what it was.

She straightened out a wrinkle or two in her sky blue jeans, and that was when she heard a loud bang followed by a particularly pained grunt. Scrunching her eyebrows she quickly left the bathroom, heading back to the living room. Now, she may have gotten used to all of Sherlock's crazy antics, albeit, she was _not_ used to seeing Sherlock being attacked by a man wearing a traditional combat outfit for a tribe that resided somewhere in the middle east. Staring as Sherlock dealt with the man, she mentally debated what to do as the man pulled out a wicked looking curved sword. So, as Sherlock jumped back, she ran up behind the weapon yielding man and punched the side of his head.

Meanwhile, at the market, John was dutifully scanning items at self-checkout. He had two or so people waiting for him to finish and, quite truthfully, he couldn't wait to get back home to maybe have a moment or two to relax; the day didn't seem like it would hold anything too unexpected. Maybe a few small things here or there, but nothing to big… hopefully. John scanned another item and was just about to place it in the bag.

_'Unexpected item in the bagging area. Please try again.'_ Said the overly polite electronic female voice of the self-checkout machine. John looked up at the screen, brow furrowing as he blinked his eyes a tad rapidly, trying to figure out what the hell the stupid machine meant.

Back at 221b, the fight between the three in the flat was still going strong; Ana had been shoved aside into one of the counters in the kitchen as Sherlock jumped back as the warrior dressed in a head scarf and long robes slashed at him. He ducked as the warrior slashed again, making a shouting noise. Sherlock stood again before crouching as the warrior tried again. Sherlock fell backwards, sliding downwards on the leather couch as he tucked his knees to his chest. He kicked the warrior as he advanced on him again, sending him reeling backwards. Ana ran out of the kitchen as the man continued to stumble. He made a move towards her but she grabbed the kitchen mob to block the blow. She smacked him harshly on the wrist so the sword wasn't coming at her then threw her shoulder into his chest causing him to fall into the chair. She tossed down the mop as Sherlock stood, looking over at her. His feet were braced apart on the floor, and he straightened out his somehow still flawless suit jacket. She tossed her hair from her face, catching her breath. He shook his head, causing his black hair to bounce a bit and he blew out a breath, rushing towards the warrior, who was now recovering.

John carefully tried to scan the wrapped head of lettuce in his hand only to receive the words of the electronic scanner,

_'Item not scanned. Please try again.'_

John was getting a tad exasperated. He'd been trying! And trying! The stupid piece of machinery was getting on his last, very worn out, nerve. He let out a frustrated huff. He glanced around at the people that surrounded him, needless to say, it was getting a tad bit embarrassing and the fluorescent lighting in the shop was also adding to a headache that was beginning to pound at the front of his skull.

" Do you think you could keep your voice down?" John asked the machine.

The warrior had landed a cut to Ana's arm as he shoved her down to the couch, advancing on Sherlock. He ended up backing up into the table in the kitchen, falling back onto it and messing up his own papers that sat on the tabletop. He gripped the warrior's wrists to keep the sword from cutting his throat, and his face scrunched with concentration and effort as the man tried to get out of his hold. It didn't work, and as Sherlock shoved him away and bolted to the living room, the sword left a long scratch in the table, which would probably be noticed immediately by John and Mrs. Hudson. Ana grabbed the warrior from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, yanking him away from Sherlock.

The buttons beeped as John punched in his credit card's pin number. He'd given up on the lettuce, figuring he'd just pick up the next day. He was now incredibly tired, in need of some form of caffeine and irritated with all the technology in the store.

_'Card not authorized. Please use an alternative method of payment_._' _ Said the electronic voice in an almost mocking way, causing John to snap.

" Yes, alright! I've got it!" He yelled at the machine, noticing the man standing in line behind him giving him a look, which clearly said he was sure John was mental. John gave a sheepish smile to the man behind him, who was still giving him looks and then he glared at the machine, holding a hand out to it as it again said,

_'Card not authorized. Please use an alternative method of payment_._'_

" Keep it! Keep that!" John stated before marching away from the damned piece of machinery, ready to just cut his losses and go home. He ran a hand through his short blond hair as he shook his head.

_I bet Sherlock hasn't moved a bloody inch since I left._ He thought to himself.

Sherlock ducked as the sword was swung towards his neck again. Jumping straight again, Sherlock yelled,

" Look!" And pointed to the corner of the room. The warrior, probably expecting Ana was there, turned to see nothing but the corner of the room. Suddenly Ana wrenched the sword from his hands expertly as Sherlock's fist connected with the man's face and he was knocked out cold, falling into Sherlock's chair. Sherlock sniffed and looked over to the mirror over the fireplace, straightening out his suit jacket again as well as the collar of his button down shirt, the top two buttons undone as usual. He looked over at Ana who swiped hair out of her face, dropping the sword to the ground. She looked down at the cut and wiped away some blood as she and Sherlock looked down at the unconscious man. Ana let out a small laugh, shaking her head.

" So, have you done anything about that diamond yet?" She teased, referencing her earlier comment, now clearly getting that this man was sent to kill Sherlock because of aforementioned diamond. He smiled and chuckled. He looked over at her and she saw a glint in his blue eyes.

" I think we just did."

O

OOO

O

Sherlock was sitting in his chair with a book held in front of his face as he read. He had his legs crossed and his elbows propped up on the arms of the chair. Ana was sitting at the table writing in her brand new journal, which had a leather cover dyed green and had impressions of trees on it, and was now wearing a black cardigan that was meant to cover the bandage that was wrapped around the sword cut on her upper arm. Both acted nonchalantly as they heard John reenter 221b, his feet marching up the steps. When he walked in he received a pleasant wave from Ana as well as a smile, and not so much as a glance from Sherlock, who was in his chair.

John looked around the room as a honking car drove past. Nothing changed. His Union Jack pillow was still in place, and nothing seemed burnt or wet. So, Sherlock _hadn't_ moved an inch since he left. It was then Ana observed his lack of groceries.

" You took your time." Sherlock commented, still not looking up.

" Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." John said disgruntled and he clenched his jaw and shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably in his black leather shooters jacket. At his comment, Sherlock looked up and gave him a look. He didn't get the shopping? He took all that time and didn't get the shopping? What the hell had he been doing then!

" What? Why not?" Asked Sherlock, brow creasing in the slightest.

" Because I had a _row_ _in the shop._ With a _chip and pin machine._" John explained to them.

" I didn't think that was possible… I think you just actually _made_ that possible." Said Ana as she shut her journal, the look on her face mirroring Sherlock's.

" You…" Sherlock lowered his book more, giving an almost amused yet skeptical look. " You had a row with a machine?" He asked.

" Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse." John said, explaining further. Ana let out a good-natured laugh and sent him a look of understanding. " Have you got cash?" The corner of Sherlock's mouth quirked up into a half smile.

" Take my card." He insisted, nodding to the kitchen table. John turned and went to go retrieve it.

" You could always go yourself." John said, snatching Sherlock's wallet. " Ana and I go all the time. You've been here _all morning_ and you haven't even moved since I left!"

Sherlock's memory was drawn back to when the warrior had crashed into the flat. As Sherlock ran towards him, he had swung the deadly sharp sword at him, causing him to duck and have the sword become embedded in the wall, at which point, Ana was beginning to enter the room.

Sherlock merely looked down at his book and turned the page, glancing up at Ana, almost expecting her to say something around, 'He's moved around, we had a break-in earlier', but she just thumbed through the empty pages of her journal. He quirked an eyebrow slightly and her eyes lifted and met his and she smirked. She then mouthed 'our little secret' to him before returning to looking down at the leather book in her hands. He mentally smirked.

" What happened to that case you were offered, the Jaria diamond?" John asked as he pulled out Sherlock's credit card. Sherlock turned a few more pages.

" Yeah, I asked him about that earlier and you never replied, Sherlock." Ana said, playing along with the whole 'nothing happened' plan she and Sherlock had seemed to have mentally agreed on. Sherlock snapped the book shut.

" Not interested." Sherlock said with a sigh, which came off to John as a 'I'm bored' kind of sigh. He glanced down under his chair, where the sword had been kicked and he knew he'd have to hide that from John somehow… He looked over at Ana and she gestured for him to kick backwards with a foot. He uncrossed his legs casually and at the same time knocked it further out of view.

Not interested? Not _interested?_ How on earth could a _missing diamond _not be interesting! John looked over his shoulder to Ana in disbelief, and she sent him back the same look, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as if to say 'unbelievable…'

" I sent them a message." Sherlock stated, thinking back on how he punched the man, who then fell to the chair, passed out. John looked down at the table and leaned close to the surface, rubbing at a mysterious scratch that had seemingly just appeared. He shook his head muttering,

" How'd that get there…" He looked over at Sherlock who have a small shrug, and Ana raised an eyebrow as if to question the same thing John was. John shook his head and turned and left through the kitchen door, heading back downstairs. Sherlock drummed his long, pale fingers on the worn cloth cover of his book, and listened as John once again left the flat. He looked over at Ana who had set her journal down and was now rubbing her eyes.

" How's your arm?" He asked curiously, setting his book down. Ana smiled a bit at him, peeling off her cardigan to look at the bandage.

" Stinging still; but I guess that's what one should expect from a sword wound." She said, lightly rubbing her arm. " Thank you, by the way, for shoving him away before he tried to kill me again." She told him, earning a small and short grunting sound from him, which she took as a 'thank you'. Then, she eyed the sword. " Can I see that?" Sherlock glanced under the chair and kicked it back out using his toe. She picked it up and held it in her hand. She seemed to be weighing it.

" Heavy. God, I cannot imagine having to use one of these on a horse! You'd have to be strong as hell." She commented, moving it around carefully. He smirked.

" You would have been used to it if you used one every day." He told her.

" Can't argue with that." She stared at the shining piece of metal in her hands. " So what do we do with it?"

" Keep it if you'd like. Otherwise, we just toss it somewhere." Sherlock told her as he stood and strode over to the table, grabbing John's laptop. Ana smirked as she looked at it.

" Well, anyone ever breaks into my room they won't be too happy." She said leaving the room, taking the sword with her.

O

OOO

O

When John did return with the shopping, Sherlock had his elbows resting on the table with his hands clasped together, pressed right under his nose, staring at the screen of the laptop. He was reading an email from a man named Sebastian whom he had attended university with. Brow furrowed, he continued to re-read said email, ignoring the sigh John gave as he hauled the groceries upstairs without any help.

" Don't worry about me, I can manage." John said sarcastically with a strained voice. He heard Ana's laugh from the landing and saw her walk forward towards him. She relieved him of a few bags and followed him through the door on the landing that led into the kitchen. The two set the bags on the table as Sherlock continued to read the email, dark eyebrows continuing to crease in concentration. John and Ana looked over at him, and John couldn't believe what he saw. Sherlock on his laptop.

" Is that my laptop?" John asked, walking forward. After a pause, in which Ana's eyebrows shot up and Sherlock flexed his hands before bringing them to the keyboard saying,

" Of course."

" _What?_"

" Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock explained as if that made everything okay.

" What, you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John asked in exasperation, pulling off his jacket, revealing a jumper with black sleeves but the body of it was grey and unbuttoned, hanging open over a black button down shirt that had white buttons. " It's password protected!" John stated.

" In a manner of speaking." Said Sherlock in a monotone, continuing to type. " Took me _less _than a minute to guess yours." He looked up at John. " Not exactly Fort Knox." John gave a rather offended look and walked over, saying,

" Right, thank you." And then slammed the top shut, causing Sherlock to pull his hands back and snatched it away, marching back over to his own chair. Ana stepped into the room, arms crossed.

" Have you used _my _computer?" Ana asked, knowing she'd left it on the couch a few times. Sherlock looked over at her, slowly clasping his hands.

" Again I say, not exactly Fort Knox. It was obvious that you used your parents names." Sherlock stated. Ana gave him a look, mentally making a note to change it to something a bit more difficult before she left for work. Sherlock then grabbed her journal and lifted it. " Also, you shouldn't leave things lying around, it's an open invitation for snooping." He raised an eyebrow at her. She yanked it from his hands and glared at him, walking to go sit on the couch, stretching her legs across it. He ignored the glare and pushed his hands together, resting them against his lips as John sat down.

John looked over at his pile of mail on the table beside him and said,

" Oh." He grabbed it to find bills and as he scanned over what he needed to pay his face continued to fall. He was still unemployed and still needed to pay bills and rent. " I need to get a job…" He muttered to himself.

" Oh, dull." Responded Sherlock, clasping his hands and resting his chin atop his fingers. Ana rolled her eyes, gently rubbing her injured arm through her cardigan as John let out another frustrated sigh. He drummed his fingers on the red upholstery of his chair before leaning forward, everything about himself hesitant.

" Listen…" He began, unsure of how to continue. Ana looked over to him, even though she was sure that he was talking mostly to Sherlock. John wracked his brain for words. How could he ask his flat mates, his _friends_ for money? How could he do that and _not_ sound rude? Or feel completely inept or worthless? Sighing to himself and looking over at the lamp and house phone on the table beside him, he folded his hands and rested his forearms on his thighs. He opened his mouth, making a sort of clicking sound, he looked over at Sherlock's profile and glanced at Ana. Best just to soldier on… " If you would be able to lend me some…" He licked his dry lips, still nervous. He could see Ana sit up, obviously the only of the two listening.

" Sherlock, you listening?" He asked. Really, he'd only intended to ask _just_ Sherlock, but now he was thinking that was a mistake on his part.

" I need to go to the bank." Sherlock stated almost out of the blue, quickly standing, his long legs pushing the chair back. He grabbed his coat off the hook on the door as John blinked in confusion, standing quickly. Ana had already yanked a pair of grey TOMS on and was grabbing her coat from the banister, following John and Sherlock out, confused as to what the hell had just happened.

The three jumped into a cab, and Sherlock said some address that wasn't familiar to John or Ana. John kept trying to question him about where they were going, but only was rewarded with silence. Ana pulled on her coat, which was blue and had golden buttons down the front, and let once again rubbed her eyes, tired from a long night of work the day before. The cab eventually stopped in front of a tall glass and Ana looked at John as they climbed out and Sherlock paid the cabbie.

" I'm glad to see someone else just as confused as I am."

Sherlock brushed passed the two and walked through a revolving glass door, John and Ana slowly following. The glass doors had SHAD SANDERSON frosted onto them. Sherlock looked around and headed for an escalator, knowing where he needed to go, and it was obvious that he was leading his two confused friends.

" Yes, when you said we were going to the bank…" John muttered as they all stepped onto the escalator.

" Were you lying?" Ana asked, rewarded by nothing but silence. She let out a small laugh, shaking her head, still getting used to not always getting an answer. Sherlock's eyes darted about his surroundings, taking notes about certain things. He saw a large electronic board that read;

**NEW YORK**

**07:45**

In large, white lights, much like a screen hanging up in Times Square that was mixed with one of those light up traffic signs they haul around to let you know when road work would occur. The next sign he looked at read;

**HONG KONG**

**20:45**

And he shut his eyes for a brief moment before looking up and seeing employees wave passes over sensors that allowed them access to rooms and elevators and even the bathroom, which was obviously off-limits to the general public. There was the ding of an elevator and Sherlock looked up to see a backwards 24. He lowered his eyes and strode off the escalator, heading towards a set of desks, a look of purpose on his face. Everything seemed to be glowing white; the floors, the fronts of the desks that once again read SHAD SANDERSON, and the back wall that was made of glass, but also the electronic backing that displayed the clocks he'd observed before. Phones rang and were answered swiftly, and everyone was wearing either a suit or some form of formal wear. Ana let out a quiet whistle.

" Aren't they high tech…" She muttered to John as Sherlock walked straight up to the desk, them stopping behind him. And all he said was,

" Sherlock Holmes."

_**Afterword: And there's chapter three! I had fun writing this, I do admit. I hope Sherlock isn't out of character, same for John. And I also hope Ana is an acceptable OC. Thank you to all who have favorited this or added this to their story alerts!**_

_** Review responding time! WOO!**_

__grapejuice101: _I'm really glad you like it! And thank you SO MUCH for being a loyal reviewer! =D Thanks for reviewing!_

mrsodairmockingjay123: _Thanks for reviewing! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

JustYourAverageWitch: _Thank you so, so much for reviewing this! And thank you equally as much for your comment! It made me really happy and gave motivation to write this chapter! Hope you enjoyed this!_

_**Okay, soooooo I'd love some more reviews, please! I'd really like to know how many people actually like this and how many people are enjoying it thus far. I'd appreciate it if you reviewed, and if you DO I'll promise to thank you profusely! And I'll even review one of your stories! Sorry if I sound whiney or needy, but this is, as I mentioned before, one of the only stories I get REALLY nervous about writing and posting chapters too! I really hope you all liked it!**_

_** Also, on my Polyvore (link is on my profile) I've been creating Ana's outfits. I've also added a picture of her journal if you're interested. Thanks again to all of you who read this! Review, pretty please!  
~Mary**_


	5. Four: A Question Of Running Or Jumping

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock (the show) or any of the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle or any of the characters. (if I did, you'd be seeing a lot of what I'm writing within the show XD) I only own my OC Ana._

Four

A Question Of Running Or Jumping

Sherlock Holmes.

Apparently those two words get you into where you need to go, especially if said man is actually expected, which he was. Sherlock, John and Ana were all brought to an elevator and brought up to a relatively high floor of the glass Shad Sanderson building. It over-looked London and it was a rather impressive view. Ana liked seeing the grey sky meet the earth on the horizon, even if the horizon was just buildings. Once on the proper floor, the three were escorted to an office by a petite woman with hair that was pinned to her head tightly in a perfect bun. They were told to wait for a man named Sebastian.

If only one word was allowed to describe the office, Ana would use monochromatic. The walls were white, the majority of the furniture was black, such as the black chairs behind her and to her left and the black lamp to her right. The desk was made of glass and even the flat screen television on the wall was black and displaying some sort of list. The view was impressive, from the wall of windows behind the desk, but the grey clouds made everything a bit more… dismal in that particular room

They only had to wait for a minute or two until a man walked in, smiling.

" Sherlock Holmes." He said.

" Sebastian." Sherlock replied, holding out his gloved right hand, his left hand still behind his back formally, and the man eagerly stepped over and shook it. The man was just about as tall as Sherlock with black hair that was expertly combed back and pale skin suggesting he didn't get out in the sun all too much. He wore a crisp blue suit with a silk patterned tie and his black shoes still shone as if he bought them yesterday, which John would say was a great possibility. And Ana wasn't sure why, but this guy seemed to be a bit off for her…

" How are you, buddy? How long has it been, eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sebastian asked, grinning and clasping his old 'friend's' hand. Sherlock never quite saw him as a friend… just a man he'd met at university. An acquaintance. Sebastian then turned his attention to the third man and only woman in the room. His eyes scanned over John quickly before turning to look over Sylvia, which he took a little more time doing.

" These are my friends, John Watson and Ana Stuart." Sherlock told Sebastian, looking over at them. Sebastian smirked.

" _Friends?_" He asked in an incredulous manor.

" Colleagues." John decided to correct, earning a look from both Sherlock and Ana. He gave a polite smile as he shook Sebastian's hand, who then turned and shook Ana's and she gave a kind smile to him, as he nodded, glancing her over one more time, which made her a bit uncomfortable, and she looked down at her feet.

" Right… right!" He said as he released Ana's hand, glancing at Sherlock and scratching the back of his neck with his left hand, on which he had a watch that Sherlock immediately took notice of. " Grab a pew!" He insisted, heading to walk around his desk and sit in his desk chair that was comfortable and high-backed. " You need anything? Coffee? Water?" After receiving shakes of the head from the trio as they all found a seat, he looked at his PA, who was standing in the doorway. " We're all sorted here, thanks." He said, and she left, shutting the door.

Sherlock sat on the right, Ana was in the middle and John was to her left, all facing the desk. Sebastian sat, unbuttoning his jacket, slouching down into his chair.

" So, you're doing well, been abroad a lot." Stated Sherlock, folding his hands in his lap.

" Well… some." Sebastian replied.

" Been all the way around the world, twice in a month." Sherlock stated, his gaze not wandering from the man's face. He let out a chuckle as he laced his fingers together, elbows resting on the chair's arms.

" Right! You're doing that thing!" Sebastian said, pointing at him, a humorous tone to his voice. He looked at Ana and John. " We were at Uni together, this guy here had a _trick_ he used to do,"

" It's not a trick." Sherlock informed him in a tight voice, noticing Sebastian's emphasis on the word 'trick'.

" He could look at you and tell your whole life story."

" Yes, I've seen him do it." John said.

" As have I." Ana agreed with a nod, not liking how this man's tone of voice was leading towards something she knew might not be adding up to much good… She didn't know why it just… seemed that way. He quirked an eyebrow and continued on, looking at the two.

" Put the wind up everyone. We hated him." He told them, and Ana cast a look at John and then to Sherlock, whose expression didn't change, he just cast his eyes to his knees, rolling his head slightly to the right. It appeared he'd heard this before and even though he'd never admit it, or show it out right, it clearly upset him. Ana knew how someone acted when they covered up being upset; she should know, she used to do it every day.

" You'd come to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know who you'd been shagging the previous night." Sebastian continued, smirking. Ana shut her eyes and clenched her jaw at the word 'freak'. She knew she didn't like this guy the moment he walked in, and now she understood why. He was probably the stuck-up school bully that every school had.

" I simply observed." Sherlock stated, his voice even, not conveying anything.

" Go on, enlighten me, two trips around the world, you're quite right. How could you tell?" He asked, but as Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted. " Gonna tell me there's a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup that you can only buy in Manhattan?" Sebastian's smile was arrogant. John laughed quietly to himself. Ana rubbed her temples, his voice grating on her nerves. Sherlock opened his mouth.

" No, I-"

" Or is it the mud on my shoes?"

" I was just chatting with your secretary outside." Sherlock told him, blinking once, face still expressionless. Ana smirked into her hand, acting like she was covering a yawn. Sebastian's smile faded. " She told me." John shot him a look. He most certainly _had not_ spoken with his secretary. A laugh emanated from Sebastian as he pulled another smile. He clapped once and Sherlock sent him a brief sarcastic smile.

" I'm glad you could make it over, we've had a break in." He said, clasping his hands together again.

" Care to show us where?" Sherlock asked, standing. Sebastian stood as well, buttoning his jacket again, gesturing for them to follow him out into the office floor. It was the trading floor, and phones never seemed to stop ringing. As soon as they were pressed into the receiver, they would almost immediately ring again. Well-dressed employees sat in cubicles, staring at computer screens with phones pressed between their ears and their shoulders.

" So, where did it happen exactly? You didn't say before." Ana asked as they followed him across the floor.

" Sir William's office. Former chairman. His room has been left here; like a sort of memorial." He explained. " Someone broke in late last night."

" What did they steal?" John asked as they made their way down a row of cubicles.

" Nothing. Just left a little message."

Sherlock noted that to get into the office, one had to have an electronic pass. Stepping inside, what was immediately noticeable was a painting on the back wall. It was fairly large and of an older man in a blue suit and red tie. But what was peculiar about it was what was now marring the man's face; a thick spray of yellow paint in a lopsided line covering his eyes, tiny beads of paint dripping down from it. To the left of the golden frame something else was sprayed onto the white wall. There was a slanted line and below that seemed to be a squiggle that looked like an unfinished 8. So. _That_ was the message the intruder left. That wasn't going to be difficult to decipher…

Sebastian glanced over to Sherlock, who was now standing still, staring at the two bright yellow symbols. His gaze was intense and he was silent as he thought. John looked over at him and Ana crossed her arms, biting her lip as she also looked at the symbols. She shook her head.

" Nothing I recognize…" She muttered. Sebastian smirked and briefly patted the woman's shoulder.

" Exactly. No one recognizes it, that is why I called in Sherlock here." He told her. She nodded and avoided eye contact, still not liking the feeling she got from him.

" Do you have any security footage? Anything of the sort?" Sherlock questioned, turning to face his old 'friend'.

" Of course, come back to my office, I'll show you."

Once back in his office, he pulled up the video footage onto his computer.

" Sixty seconds apart." He told them, pushing a key. They saw the office without the symbols. The next time he clicked the key, it was a picture taken sixty seconds after, and the symbols were there. " So, somebody came up here in the middle of the night and splashed some paint around and left within a minute."

John and Ana stared at the screen, brains ceasing their trains of thought in confusion, but Sherlock's mind was whirring and clicking, possibilities beginning to pop up.

" How many ways into that office?" He asked immediately after Sebastian had stopped talking.

" Well, that's where it gets really interesting…"

Sebastian led them down to the main desks where they'd come in earlier. He pulled up a floor plan of the trading floor and it showed all the doors. Only one door to Sir William's office.

" Every door that opens in this bank is logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet." Sebastian informed.

" That door didn't open last night?" Asked Sherlock, eyes on the screen.

" There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you. Five figures." He pulled a check from the inside of his suit jacket. " _This_ is an advance." John's eyebrows shot up in shock, not believing it. He had to say, that amount of money impressed him. Ana shook her head in disbelief, also fairly impressed. Sherlock's face stayed blank, as usual. At least this was something interesting to do.

" Tell me where he got in and there's a bigger one on its way." John took all his will power _not_ to let his jaw gape open.

" I don't _need_ an incentive… Sebastian." Sherlock told him, fixing him with a look before walking off, leaving said man staring into nothing. Ana and John watched him leave.

" He's… He's kidding you, obviously. Shall I look after that for him?" John asked as Sebastian handed the check to him, rolling his eyes slightly. John stared at the amount written on the paper, shaking his head slightly. Ana let out a little breath, running a hand through her hair, wincing as the skin around the wound on her arm pulled at the motion.

" We should probably go find him… Make sure he doesn't do anything too stupid." Ana muttered, rolling her eyes at the amusing thought of Sherlock doing something… Sherlock-y in the middle of a busy office.

" Probably a good idea..." John said, still staring at the check in his hands. Ana rolled her eyes with a small laugh, playfully smacking his arm.

" I'll go, you can go sit down or something if looking at that too long will make you faint or something." She teased, turning to Sebastian and giving him a mock one-finger salute in means of goodbye, turning and heading to the elevators.

Sherlock stood in Sir William's office, holding up his phone, taking pictures of both symbols. First a few of the one on the painting, and then a few of the one on the wall. Lowering his phone, his thought about the symbols, mentally seeing the two side by side as he looked around the room. The symbols obviously meant something, the question was what. What would be helpful is if he could pinpoint _who_ the message was for, then finding out what it said might follow easier.

He turned and faced the open door to the office (propped open so he could get in and out freely) and then glanced over his right shoulder to the large windows. His brow creased as his mind began to spin again. He looked back to the door, eyes shifting a bit. Well… Sebastian did say that _doors_ were always catalogued when opened… but he said _nothing_ about windows. He walked over to one of the floor length windows, pulled up the blinds slowly and then popped the window open, allowing himself to step out onto the ledge just outside. He looked out towards a tall glass building right across the street and then glanced down to the sharp and deadly drop beneath him. He looked up; eyes squinted slightly against the wind and then turned and went back inside.

Ana just stepped out of the elevator to see Sherlock bounding across the office. She began to walk over but froze in confusion as he suddenly dropped down behind the side of a cubicle, crouching there. She raised an eyebrow as he slowly rose up, peering over the top of said cubicle, a completely serious look on his face. He was looking towards Sir William's office. There was a pillar in the center of the room that was blocking the view of the portrait. So. No one from this area of the office…

Ana walked over, and was about to ask what he was doing, but he side stepped her and moved on to his right. She blinked at his sudden disappearance and noticed a worker behind them giving Sherlock an odd look. Sherlock quickly cut diagonally across the room, more towards the back. He ducked down and popped back up again and then crouched, keeping his head level with the cubicle divider. Ana slowly followed him, taking unsure steps. Everyone in the office was giving him looks, seeing as he was acting both like an excited dog who wants to look at something and, as Ana thought, an interpretive dancer.

Sherlock was shifting his weight from foot to foot, eyes narrowed as he continued to try and catch sight of the painting. He was vaguely aware of Ana following him, but he was too focused to actually notice. Maybe she'd pick something up. Maybe she wouldn't. She could just be a hindrance to this possible case. He'd have to wait and see.

He couldn't see the painting. He moved on. He quickly walked towards another pillar, and as he began to pass it, he spun around to look back at the office. Still couldn't see it. He backed up towards the door to an office, crouching in the slightest, quickly shifting his weight from foot to foot again and turned and moved farther back into the blue walled room. He spun around on his heel and stared across the office. Between the doorframe, the pillar and the top of a cubicle, he could _just_ see the head of portrait of the man with his eyes spray painted over. He sidled to his left and then speedily jumped back as if trying to make sure that he could still see it. He could. He smirked slightly and walked towards the door, and this gave Ana the chance to finally catch up with him. She gave him a look.

" Find whatever you were looking for?" She asked, crossing her arms. He pointed back towards where he had been standing and gestured for her to go stand there, which she silently, and confusedly, did. He looked at the door. Two signs were stuck to the door. The lower one read;

HONG KONG

DESK HEAD

The one above it read;

EDWARD VAN COON

He quickly snatched the name card and grabbed Ana's hand, dragging her towards the elevator.

" Wait, I'm sorry, I still don't understand what you were doing, you looked like you were doing interpretive dance." She teased as they got into the elevator.

" That office, the office of Edward Van Coon," He lifted the name card quickly before lowering it again. " Is the only spot where you can see the painting. The only spot where you could see it _directly_ without anything blocking the face. The message is for _him_." Sherlock explained as the elevator gave a _ding!_ And they exited onto the lobby floor, going to get John. Ana thought a moment in shock before shaking her head.

" That is bloody brilliant, I have to say." She admitted a bit of laughter hinting in her voice. " So, what we have to do now is find Edward Van Coon?" Sherlock smirked and looked down at her.

" Exactly."

_Maybe she'll be of use after all…_

After they found John, bid Sebastian a hasty and thoughtless goodbye and an assurance they'd contact him later, the trio headed towards the escalators. They walked in silence a moment.

" 'Two trips around the world this month'." John began, breaking the silence. " You didn't ask his secretary."

" You said it just to annoy him." Ana finished, smirking at the tall man, who stayed silent and smirked. " But, how did you know, really?"

" Did you see his watch?" Sherlock asked.

" His watch?" John questioned.

" The time was right but the date was wrong. It said two days ago." Sherlock recalled, remembering seeing the face of the watch as Sebastian raised his arm to rub the back of his neck. " Crossed the dateline twice but didn't alter it." Sherlock said as they began to ride the escalator downwards

" Okay, that makes sense. But how'd you get that he'd done it twice in _one month_?" Ana inquired, raising an eyebrow curiously.

" New Breitling. Only came out this February." He referred to the watch on Sebastian's wrist, making Ana look over to John with shock, still unable to understand how on earth he could pick all that up. John had an equally shocked look and nodded, letting her know he understood the shock.

" Okay, do you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?" John asked as they began to walk towards the next escalator, beginning to ride that one down and towards the front doors.

" Got everything I need to know already, thanks." Was his reply. Ana rolled her eyes and John looked at the dark haired man in confusion. " That graffiti was a message. Someone on the bank on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and…"

" He'll lead us to the person who sent it." Said John in realization. Sherlock suppressed an eye roll.

" Obvious." He was quick to reply.

" Well, there's three hundred people up there, who was it meant for?"

" Pillars…"  
" _What?_"

" The pillars and the screens. There are very few places you could see that graffiti and that narrows the field considerably." Sherlock explained as he led them towards the front doors.

" You should have seen him; it was like he was dancing around the office." Ana whispered with a smile. Sherlock sent her a look, which was just a raised eyebrow and a blank face.

" And of course, the message was left at eleven thirty four last night. That tells us a lot."

" You've lost me there…" Ana admitted.

" Does it?" John asked, sharing Ana's confusion.

" Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at _midnight._ Not many Van Coon's in the phone book." Sherlock held up the paper name card for John to see. He then bounded towards the street corner calling,

" Taxi!"

The ride in the taxi was fairly short compared to others. The three watched buildings speed past and waited anxiously as they neared Van Coon's apartment building. Sherlock was beginning to think this was another one of those 'open and shut' cases. Those ended up being rather boring. However, the fact that the message was writing using symbols close to no one would understand was extremely interesting, so maybe this would be more interesting than he originally thought.

They arrived at the apartment building, which was rather tall and seemed a bit expensive looking. Walking up to a box that had buttons to ring to the designated flat, Sherlock found Van Coon's button and pressed it. A buzzing sounded and after no answer, Sherlock's brow creased and he tried again. Nothing again. Ana and John had their hands shoved in their pockets to keep the cold off.

" So, what now?" John asked, keeping his shoulders lifted a bit to keep his neck warm. Sherlock looked up at the building, noticing all the balconies. " Sit and wait for him to show up?"

" Just moved in." Sherlock stated, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

" What?"

" The flat above, new label." He explained, putting a finer under a new looking name card that read; _Wintle_.

" Well, couldn't someone have just replaced it? I mean, the name pieces _are_ exposed to the wind and rain and sun, someone's bound to replace it at some point." Ana asked, shrugging her shoulders a bit, eyebrow raised. He pushed the button beside the name _Wintle_.

" No one ever does that." Sherlock gave her a look. She shot a look back before rolling her eyes. They waited for a moment to see if anyone would answer.

" _Hello?_" Came a kind female voice. Sherlock turned to face the box and smiled, and began to talk.

" Hi, um… I live in the flat just below you, I… I don't think we've met." Sherlock began, his voice sounding a bit lighter than his usual deep tone. He was also smiling, face bright. Ana glanced at John, who was just looking at Sherlock with shock.

" _No, well, uh, I've just moved in._" Came the woman's reply. Sherlock nodded and gave a 'I told you so' sort of look over at Ana pointedly, who mouthed, 'oh shut up!' to him. He rolled his eyes.

" Actually… I've just uh… locked my keys in my flat…" Sherlock said with an extremely convincing embarrassed smile. Ana leaned towards John.

" He's acting human…" She whispered in a shocked yet obviously joking tone.

" _You want me to buzz you in?_" Sherlock bit his lower lip in another motion of 'embarrassment'.

" Yeah…" His face suddenly went serious again, voice returning to normal. " And can I use your balcony?" There was a pause.

" _What?_"

" I'll explain when I get there, thank you for buzzing me in." Sherlock continued as the intercom line went dead and the door buzzed after a second, allowing them in.

" That was the most amazing and convincing display of acting I think I've ever seen." Ana admitted.

" But… why on earth do you need that woman's _balcony?_" John asked, his brow furrowing.

Sherlock let Ana and John off on Van Coon's floor as he went to go meet the woman who was going to let him use her balcony, even if she didn't know it quite yet. As Ana and John walked towards Van Coon's flat, Ana shook her head.

" I _cannot_ believe he's going to use that poor woman's balcony to jump down onto Van Coon's." She muttered, shaking her head, her brown locks swinging around her face. " Does he have a death wish?" John chuckled, running a hand through his blond hair, messing it up a bit.

" Sometimes I think he does, but I honestly think he doesn't really care. He's on a case and that's all that really matters to him right now. He won't even _eat_ during a case. Says 'digestion messes with my thought process' or something around that affect." John told her. She let out a laugh.

" So I suppose some people could call him a vigilante?" Ana asked as they paused in front of Van Coon's door.

" Someone _could,_ but he annoys everyone to the point of them just calling him extremely rude names and they wouldn't even consider him a good person." He smirked a bit. " You're actually very funny, you do know that, right?" John asked. Ana rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall by the door.

" I'm glad you think so. Very few people can put up with me. Thus far, my friend Liz, my boss Steve, you and Sherlock are the only ones who seem to have a tolerance to me. Actually, I think you're the only ones who actually want to try to get to know me… though I think I might exclude Sherlock from that one." Ana said with an amused look on her face, absent-mindedly rubbing her injured arm. John raised a skeptical eyebrow.

" If you want my opinion, I think people want to get to know you, they just aren't sure how to start up a conversation. You're a very likable person. Also, I wouldn't exclude Sherlock from the 'getting to know you' category. That was one of the reasons he let you move into the flat. He wants to know more about you, even if he won't admit it out loud." John smiled over at her, grinning when she returned the smile, a faint blush popping into her cheeks.

Sherlock had somehow managed to convince the woman to let him use her balcony so he could get into 'his own' flat by lowering himself onto the balcony below. She hesitantly agreed, and Sherlock looked around the view of the balcony on the seventh floor before stepping over the railing and slowly lowering himself down. He hung for a moment glancing down before releasing his hold, dropping onto Van Coon's balcony and landing in a crouch. He stood quickly, however, and looked over the railing, down at the ground. He turned to face the glass doors and slowly opened one, pushing a sheer white curtain out of his way as he stepped inside.

The flat, much like the Shad Sanderson building, was monotone in color. The walls were white, the cabinets over the flat screen television were white, even the leather couch and matching ottoman where pristine white. It looked like a show room at a furniture store. A Buddha head sat below the television along with a desk lamp, still left on, and a pile of books, which Sherlock took into notice as he walked past them. He went into the kitchen, which also seemed bare. He opened the refrigerator only to find all the shelves stocked with champagne bottles.

The doorbell buzzed twice quickly before it buzzed a third time and it was held out a bit longer. John and Ana were getting a bit impatient it seemed.

" Sherlock?" John asked through the door. Sherlock ignored them and continued to search the flat. He looked in the small bathroom, which held nothing but towels, a toilet, a sink and a bottle of scented soap.

" Sherlock, are you okay?" Came Ana's voice. Once again ignored, he shut the bathroom door. He turned to two large wooden double doors and tried to open them. They were locked. He tried again. Still nothing. There was an annoyed sigh from the front door.

" Anytime you feel like letting us in…" John muttered. Sherlock took a step back and rammed his left shoulder into the doors, which swung open with a slight splintering sound.

" What the _hell_ was that?" Asked Ana, sounding a bit concerned.

_That's certainly different, someone's actually __concerned__ about me. Hm. _Sherlock thought as he entered what was now apparent to be the master bedroom. He stopped short when he saw a man lying on the bed, arms slightly spread out from his sides, a gun on the floor and a bullet hole in his right temple. Well, that's why Edward Van Coon didn't answer his intercom.

Just as John was about to shout another angry comment at Sherlock, the door opened. He looked over at Ana.

" You said you were at university to join Scotland Yard, yes?" She nodded. " And you still want to be apart of all the happenings that surround being a detective, yes?" He pulled them inside and shut the door.

" Yes…" She said cautiously, not knowing where Sherlock was going with this. He walked into the bedroom and gestured with an arm to Van Coon. Sherlock smiled elegantly at her as she stepped inside.

" Welcome to _my_ world. It's relatively similar." Sherlock told her as she and John spotted Van Coon.

" Oh, Jesus…" John said, shutting his eyes for a moment before sighing. Ana didn't scream. She didn't faint. Her skin just paled a tad drastically as she took in the dead man before her. She swallowed and blinked a few times, feeling her heart race. This was her first time seeing a dead body since her father's funeral. But this was the first dead body she'd seen that was either a suicide victim or a murder victim. _This_ is what she had been training for when she was forced to drop out. And maybe, like Mycroft Holmes had told her, she was still longing for the thrill of the chase and the mystery.

" I'll go call Lestrade…" John muttered, pulling his phone out and walking into the hall. As if sensing what Ana was thinking about, Sherlock turned so his back was facing hers, his gloved hands clasped behind himself.

" So, this is what you've been longing to do for such a long time. The question is, are you going to accept what all this entails and jump right in, or are you going to decline and not even get your toes wet?" Sherlock questioned, not looking at her.

Jump in. Run away.

Those were her two options.

In hindsight she should have turned and walked away from the man standing beside her. Ran away from the mystery that not only surrounded this case, but also shrouded the tall captivating man in the black coat with equally dark hair and piercing blue eyes by the name of Sherlock Holmes. Said man then turned his head to glance over his shoulder and turned his piercing gaze to pin her with it. He raised an eyebrow, prompting an answer.

She met his gaze. A smirk appeared on Ana's lips that then formed slowly into a grin. She lifted her chin and raised an eyebrow as an answer. Sherlock smirked. They both knew what that look meant;

_I'm diving in headfirst and I don't think I'll be looking back._

_**Afterword: Okay, so there it is! I'm not all too sure about this chapter. I feel like Ana's personality might have changed a bit in this. But, then again, I guess she is just that… interestingly different… if that made sense… It didn't, sorry, I'm just nervous about this entire thing… * takes in deep breath ***_

_** Review responses!**_

**grapejuice101:**_ I'm glad you've been looking forward to an update! Hope this chapter was okay. Thanks for the review!_

**mrsodairmockingjay132:**_ I hope you liked this chapter, even if it was off and Ana didn't seem to fit well into it… I'll fix that before the next chapter. Thanks for the review!_

**JustYourAverageWitch:**_ I'm glad you like my imagery! I think it's my strongest point in writing. The fight scene is one of my favorite scenes too, I just love how he does all of that kind of stuff and John doesn't notice XD Thanks for the review!_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'm glad you like the story thus far and will stick with reading it! Thanks for the review!_

**Phalen Rhude:**_ I'm glad you're liking the story! I'm also very glad that you think Sherlock fits in well, now I just gotta work on making Ana and John fit in a tad bit better XD Also, I'm looking forward to putting Irene in, I think I already have Ana's reaction down XD Well, we've still got a few more episodes to go till we meet Miss Adler! Thanks so much for the review!_

_**And Thanks again to all those who put this story on their story alerts and/or on their favorites! It means a lot (especially for this story)!**_

_** Okay, thanks again you guys for reading and reviewing! Reviews would be ever so welcomed! So, let me know how I'm doing or if there's something you might want me to add in or something like that! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Next update coming soon! Review please! Thanks!  
~Mary**_


	6. Five: Things Get… Interesting

_Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own Sherlock (the show) or any of the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle or any of the characters. I only own my OC Ana._

Five

Things Get… Interesting

A shutter clicked and a flash briefly illuminated the room as a photographer from the police department took a photograph of Van Coon's lifeless body lying on his bed. His eyes were still open and staring blankly at the stark ceiling above. The bullet hole on his right temple still dripped crimson blood on his pale skin. The police were now searching the flat, and Sherlock, John and Ana stood by the bed Van Coon lay on, Sherlock pulling on a pair of latex gloves. His coat and scarf had been removed and he stared down at the body, already examining every little detail. John had his arms crossed, thinking about the sight in front of him. The gun was now on the floor, Van Coon's hand open.

" Think he'd lost a lot of money?" John asked. Sherlock looked up at the photographer, who was preparing for another photo. " Suicide is pretty common among city boys." Sherlock gave him a look, beginning to turn away.

" We don't it was a suicide." Sherlock informed, turning to the wall. Ana and John shared a look.

" Sherlock, the door was locked _from the inside_ and you used the upstairs neighbors _balcony_ to get in! I don't know about anyone else, but that sort of says 'not murder'." Ana said, memories of school finally coming back to mind. He was now crouched over an open suitcase staring at the messy contents inside.

" Been away three days judging by the laundry." He determined as he stood. He stared at the case a moment longer before looking back at his two companions. Ana was looking at the body, brow furrowed as she looked it over and John was giving him an odd look. " Look at the case," Ana's eyebrow raised and she looked down at the messy clothing it held. " There was something tightly packed inside it."

" Thanks, I'll take your word for it." John replied shortly, giving a nod. Sherlock's head tilted slightly as his brows creased.

" Problem?"

" Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's _dirty underwear_." He responded, looking at Van Coon for a moment. Ana nodded, eyes once again trained on the body.

" I agree with John." She stated. Sherlock noticed where her eyes were set for a moment and then began to walk around the bed.

" Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti, why were they put there?" He asked, forgetting the previous conversation. Sighing, John took a few steps to his left.

" Some sort of code?" Suggested John.

" Obviously." Sherlock began to examine the body, searching through pockets and lifting up the sides of the jacket. " But why were they painted? If you wanted to communicate why not use email?"

" Well, maybe he wasn't answering."

" Oh good, you follow." Sherlock said leaning over the body to check the other side of the jacket.

" Um… No."

" And you, Ana?"

" Sorry, not really." She responded. " But do continue, this is actually pretty interesting."

" What kind of message would anyone try avoid?" Sherlock asked, taking Van Coon's left hand and looking it over. The first thought that came to Ana's mind she voiced almost subconsciously.

" Death threat." She said. Both men looked at her. Blushing hotly she shrugged. " What? It's true." Ignoring her comment, Sherlock continued.

" What about this morning, those letters you were looking at?" He gently opened Van Coon's mouth, peering inside. John and Ana blinked for a moment.

" _Bills?_" They both asked in unison. Sherlock slowly reached inside the dead man's mouth and pulled something black and soaked in saliva out of it.

" Yes… he was being threatened." Sherlock all but whispered.

" Not by the gas board…" Came John's quiet voice as the three stared at the black paper Sherlock had removed from Van Coon's mouth.

" Unless they decide to kill if you don't pay." Ana muttered as Sherlock dropped the paper into an evidence bag.

At that very moment a man walked in wearing a crisp outfit. The three turned to look at him as he marched further into the room, stopping a few feet away from them. To Ana it looked like he'd only just gotten out of school.

" Ah, Sergeant, I don't believe we've met." Sherlock said politely, pulling off his gloves and stepping forward to shake the man's hand.

" Yeah, I know who you are." The man replied sharply. " And I'd prefer if you didn't _tamper_ with any of the evidence." Sherlock stared at the man in a mixture of shock and confusion. In response he merely held out the evidence bag to him, which the man quickly snatched away.

" I phoned Lestrade, is he on his way?" Sherlock asked, immediately recovering from that last moment.

" He's busy. _I'm_ in charge. And it's not Sergeant. It's Detective Inspector. Dimmock." Dimmock responded harshly, staring up at the tall man in front of him. Sherlock blinked and looked back at John and Ana in disbelief, who stood just as shocked. In the time they'd both known Sherlock _no one_ had spoken to him like that.

Dimmock quickly exited the room, Sherlock hot on his heels.

" We're obviously looking at a suicide." The DI announced as they entered the living room.

" That _does_ seem the only explanation of the facts." John said as he stopped in the middle of the room, Ana stopping beside him as Sherlock moved to the window.

" Wrong." Came Sherlock's voice. He turned to walk towards Ana and John. " It's _one _possible explanation of some facts." He rounded on Dimmock, coming face to face with the man. " Tell me what you like, but your choosing to ignore _anything you see_ _that doesn't comply to it_."

_Ah, there's the temper Sherlock had bit back._ Thought Ana as she took another look around the flat's living room, seeing nothing than a room full of police officers.

" _Like_?" Dimmock prodded demandingly.

" The wound is on the right side of his head."

" And?"

" Van Coon was _left-handed._" Sherlock snapped. He moved his left arm under his chin to place two fingers to his temple and then moved his left arm over his head to do the same, mimicking the way a left handed person would try to put a gun to the right side of their head. " Requires quite a bit of contortion."

" _Left handed?_" Questioned Dimmock, his voice raising a half octave in his annoyance.

" I'm _amazed _you didn't notice, all you had to do was look around this flat." Sherlock pointed towards the couch and began to speak rapid fire. " Coffee table on the left hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left." He pointed to the wall. " Power sockets, he used the ones on the _left_, there's pen and paper on the _left hand side_ of phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages _with his left_." He looked at Dimmock, eyebrows raised, an innocent look on his face. " Do you want me to go on?"

" No, I think you've covered it…" Groaned John, his head leaning back, face weary.

" I might as well, I'm almost at the bottom of the list." He faced the kitchen. " There's a knife on the bread board with butter on the right side of the blade because he used with his _left._ It's highly unlikely a left-handed man would shoot himself on the right side of his head! Conclusion; someone else broke in here and murdered him, only explanation of all the facts." Sherlock said smartly.

" He's right…" Ana muttered. The three men gave her a look of shock. " What? It's true. If he's left handed then the angle of the gun would have been off." She mimicked Sherlock's previous move by putting her arm under her chin, fingers to her temple. " The wound would have been angled towards the back of his head, not straight through the side."

" But the gun-" Dimmock began, breaking off any further explanation Ana could have, but Sherlock cut him off saying,

" He was waiting for the killer! He'd been threatened." Sherlock stepped forward and grabbed his coat and scarf from the couch.

" _What?_" Asked Dimmock.

" Today at the bank… sort of a warning." John explained.

" He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock said, looping the scarf around his neck. Dimmock lifted his eyebrows and looked at the consulting detective doubtfully.

" And the bullet?" He asked.

" Went through the open window." Sherlock pulled on his coat and removed his leather gloves from his pocket.

" Oh _come on._ What are the chances of that?"

" When you get the ballistic report, the bullet in his brain wasn't from his gun, I guarantee it." Sherlock said in a deep monotone, pulling his gloves on.

" But if his door was locked from the inside… how did the killer get in?"

" Good!" Sherlock said with a mocking smile, lifting his eyebrows before his face went dead serious again. " You're _finally_ asking the right questions." And with that comment, he turned and walked out of the flat. John tried to find a way to apologize but found no words leaving his mouth. He turned and followed Sherlock out, Ana beginning to back up to leave.

" Um… I hope you have a good day." Ana managed to get out awkwardly before turning and running after her two flat mates.

The three hailed a cab, taking a ride back to the Shad Sanderson building, ready to talk to Sebastian again, only to find that he was out at a meeting at some fancy restaurant. After getting the address, they quickly grabbed another cab and went to go crash Sebastian's meeting.

Striding into the restaurant, they found Sebastian's table, and he appeared to be in the middle of telling some sort of joke or story that had caused the table to erupt in laughter. Walking over, Sherlock immediately cut in.

" It was a threat; that's what the graffiti meant." Sherlock informed, staring down at Sebastian from diagonally across the table. Sebastian ate another spoonful of whatever food he'd ordered and then rolled his eyes a bit.

" I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?" He asked in a dismissive manor, trying not to look at the slightly imposing consulting detective.

" It can't wait, sorry, Sebastian." He said, not sounding sorry at all. " One of your traders, someone who works in your office was _killed_."

That got _everyone_ at the tables attention. They went silent and looked up at him.

" What?" Sebastian asked.

" Edward Van Coon." Answered Ana.

" The police are at his flat." Continued John as Sherlock took the glass of water from the man sitting to his right and lifted it, taking a drink from it.

" _Killed?_"

" Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion. Still want to make an appointment? Would nine o'clock at _Scotland Yard _suit?" Sherlock questioned, raising an eyebrow, setting the glass of water back down. The table stayed hushed. Sebastian ran a finger on the inside of collar and looked up at Sherlock. Glancing at the men sitting at the table with him, he stood slowly.

" Excuse me a moment." He said. He nodded towards the back of the restaurant and the three followed him. And stopped in her tracks as Sebastian entered the men's room, so she leaned up against the wall opposite the door and crossed her arms, ready to wait.

John leaned against a sink, arms crossed, head ducked down a bit and Sherlock stood off to the side as Sebastian washed his hands.

" Harrow, Oxford. Very bright guy." He told them. Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back and listened intently. " Worked in Asia for a while, so…"

" You gave him the Hong Kong accounts." Said John, catching it immediately. Sebastian merely looked at him as he scrubbed his hands dry with a white towel.

" Lost five mil in one morning, made it all back a week later." He explained. Sherlock's head raised a bit as he took note of that, swiftly storing it away for later. " Nerves of steel, Eddie had."

" Who'd want to kill him?" Asked John, glancing at Sherlock, who was being surprisingly quiet.

" We all make enemies."

" You don't all end up with a bullet through your temple." John stated calmly but there was an obvious sharp edge to his voice. He couldn't believe that Sebastian was taking the situation so _lightly_. Sebastian's phone beeped.

" Not usually. Excuse me." He replied, reaching into his pocket and extracting his phone. He looked down at it and read what it said on the screen. He turned away from the porcelain sink. " It's my chairman. Police have been on to him. Apparently they're telling him it was a _suicide_."

" Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian." Sherlock said, speaking up for the first time since they'd entered the men's room. " He was murdered." His face was dead serious as Sherlock looked at the man in front of him, who looked back down at his phone.

" Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that."

" Seb-"

" And neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job; _don't_ get sidetracked." Sebastian snapped before turning and pushing the door open, exiting the men's room.

" I thought all bankers were supposed to be heartless bastards." John said sarcastically.

As Sebastian walked back into the restaurant, he caught that woman's eye again. What was her name? Ana? He honestly had no idea how she ended up being associated with Sherlock, seeing as the man practically repelled all women and didn't seem affected by them at all. He gave her a slightly smarmy smile as she straightened up from her slouching position against the wall.

" You know, if you ever find yourself getting tired of those two, especially Sherlock, feel free to give me a call." He told her before grinning and walking off. Ana stared after him, mouth gaping open. She squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered a bit at what he had said. He honestly freaked her out a bit.

" What was that about?" She heard John ask. She opened her eyes to see the two men standing in front of her.

" It was about something that is _never_ going to happen." She muttered in annoyance before shoving her hands in her pockets. " He asked me to call him if I ever got tired of you both, namely Sherlock. I swear to _God_ next time he says something like that, I might just have to hurt him…" She spun on her heel and marched towards the exit of the restaurant. Sherlock smirked as they began to follow her.

" She's definitely interesting." He said to John. " There are some things about her just can't seem to be explained…" His eyes narrowed a bit in curiosity. " But I think that I'll be able to figure out how to explain them one way or another."

John couldn't help but smile a bit as they exited the restaurant to see Ana hailing a taxi for them. He had to admit, he was glad that Sherlock was actually taking a liking to Ana. The two seemed to pose challenges for each other; for Ana, how to put up with his crazy antics, deal with the insults he sometimes ended up hurling at her or at other people, and, like everyone else, just try to figure out how to define Sherlock Holmes. For Sherlock he tried to figure out what made her different and why some things about her just weren't explainable, were amongst other things.

They arrived back at the flat and decided collectively, or rather John and Ana decided, to order take-out Chinese food for an early dinner. As John ordered over the phone, Ana sat at the table and pulled off her cardigan to stare at the bandage on her arm, which had a splotch of blood seeping through it. Sighing, she unwrapped the white gauze and balled it up in her hand, peering at the cut. It was inflamed in the slightest and dried blood was crusted on the edge. She pursed her lips as she gently prodded it, blue eyes narrowing a bit at the pain.

" My God, Ana, what happened?" John asked in shock as he stared wide-eyed at his friend's arm. Ana looked up quickly, as did Sherlock, who turned his gaze from the book he'd been reading to the cut on her arm.

" Um…" Ana began, looking down at her arm. " I fell." She said lamely mentally smacking herself for that excuse. John shook his head and walked over.

" You fell? On _what_?" John asked. " Mind if I take a look?" She shook her head and he crouched beside her, gently checking the cut.

" Well, you see, when you were at the market, I went into the kitchen and I tripped over my own foot being as clumsy as I am. There was a knife sticking off the edge of the counter and it got my arm as I fell." Ana fibbed, knowing that was probably quite close to impossible, but it worked for now. And, in all honesty, it was sort of true; she _had_ received the cut by a blade of sorts… John looked up at her, his blond eyebrows furrowing.

" I'm a doctor you could have let me know so I could have checked on it sooner." He looked over at Sherlock. " You could have told me about this too you know."

" It slipped my mind." He stated, looking back to his book.

" Slipped? You… Jesus, Sherlock…" John muttered, standing. " I'm going to go get some anti-septic and new bandages, it should start healing soon." He left to get the medical supplies and Ana looked over at Sherlock and said,

" Not a word about how improbable that excuse is." Her voice was monotone, a tone he'd never heard her voice take on yet. Glancing up, he saw her face was completely wiped of any emotion, yet it said loads of things. It was threatening, it was annoyed, it was a warning and it was daring. It was like she was _daring _him with her eyes to try and say something. It was interesting… He wondered that if he did, if she would snap at him; if he'd finally see the temper she'd been keeping locked away. He wondered how bad that temper would be…

Sherlock merely smirked at her and looked back at him book, not uttering a word. The time would come when he'd finally cause her patient nerves to snap, but tonight was not the night that was going to happen.

_She's __definitely__ intriguing. _Thought Sherlock, turning the page of his book.

The rest of the night went by at a smooth and calm pace. They got the take out, which Sherlock didn't even bother to cast a glance at, and over dinner John told the two that he was going to go on a job interview the next day at a nearby surgery. When he brought that up, Ana smiled at him and wished him luck. Sherlock muttered,

" Dull."

It had also been one of Ana's night's off, so she spent it on the couch, legs tucked underneath her, chatting to John and occasionally Sherlock as she jotted things down in her journal. As she stood to go to bed she looked over at Sherlock.

" I changed the password on my laptop, by the way. Have fun guessing it." She informed him with a smirk. He looked up at her and actually smiled.

" It's the name of the school you attended."

Ana's smirk dropped and she spun on her heel, exiting the room, trying to think of a better password to stop Sherlock from hacking into her damn computer.

O

OOO

O

When John left for his interview the next morning he left Ana working on her laptop trying to switch her password and he left Sherlock lost in thought while taping pictures on the mirror. Sherlock also smirked and chuckled every once and a while as Ana typed on her keyboard, guessing each password. He also asked John for a pen, but it didn't seem the blond man had heard him…

At the surgery, John sat in front of the practice manager's desk, who was reading over a sheet that had his qualifications on it. The practice manager's name was Sarah, who was a pretty woman with deep brown hair that had been pulled into a high ponytail. She glanced up at John after reading over the paper.

" Just locum work." She informed him. John shook his head.

" No, that's fine." He told her, smiling a bit.

" You're um… well, you're a bit over-qualified." She said glancing over the paper again. John smiled.

" Well, um, I could always do with the money."

" Well, we've got two on holiday this week and one's just left to have a baby…" She began to explain, swiping some hair from her face. " Might be a bit mundane for you?"

" Uh, no mundane is good sometimes. Mundane works." He assured her, still smiling and nodding as well. It was true, after living with Sherlock and all the crazy things that happened that went along with that, mundane might just be perfect. Sarah smiled a bit at him.

" It says here that you're a soldier."

" And doctor."

" Anything else you can do?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, clasping her hands together.

" Uh… I learned the clarinet at school." John said smiling a bit more. Sarah returned the smile and laughed a bit.

" Oh, uh, I look forward to it."

O

OOO

O

At 221b, Sherlock sat in his chair, turned towards the fireplace. He was staring at the pictures of the symbols of the bank he'd taken and then printed out. His long fingers were pressed together and resting under his chin as he began to analyze the possibilities again. Ana was sitting in John's chair, staring at Sherlock with an eyebrow raised. He'd been sitting like that in his trance-like state for just about an hour, right after John had left. She'd tried asking him what he was doing but her comments didn't register in the least bit; he didn't even _blink._ The only time he had actually spoken to her was when he grabbed her laptop, guessed the password (much to her disappointment and aggravation), and said;

" Too easy, it was your middle name."

It was interesting to just see him sitting still for once, completely focused on something that no one else but himself saw… it was like he could physically see his own thought process in front of his eyes…

Which he practically could. He was mentally sifting through different hieroglyphs and codes, and when each one popped into his head, dozens at once, he could see them in front of him and as soon as one would appear it would dissipate and another would take its place. Ana shook her head, wondering how his mind must work. Sherlock barely registered her sitting there watching him, but did register the fact that John had just arrived home. John walked into the living room and looked down at Ana who was sitting in his chair. He made a mental note they probably had to get her one as well…

" I said could you pass me a pen." Sherlock suddenly said, the first words he'd spoken all day. John froze at the comment. He looked around to see if he was asking anyone else, so he looked at Ana who shook her head.

" He's barely even spoken to me today." She told him with a shrug, fixing her shirt sleeve.

" What, when?" John asked.

" About an hour ago."

" Didn't notice I'd gone out then?" John picked up a pen from the lamp table beside his chair and looked up at the pictures taped to the mirror and then tossed the pen at Sherlock without looking at him. Sherlock didn't even send a glance to John or the writing utensil as he flung his left hand out and snatched the pen out of the air. Ana smirked at how kind of… amazing that was. Coolest pen toss she'd ever seen.

" Went to see about a job at the surgery." John reminded him, looking at the photographs.

" How was it?" Sherlock inquired.

" Great… She's great." John replied. Ana looked up at her friend and a small grin made it across her face. Sherlock's eyes moved to John as well as a tiny, almost non-existent, smirk pulled at his lips.

" Who?" Sherlock asked. John looked back at him.

" The job."

" 'She?'" Asked Sherlock, lowering his eyebrows a bit, catching his mistake.

" It." John pronounced clearly after a slightly awkward pause.

" Oh, that is _definitely_ not what you said. This conversation isn't over." Ana said, grinning. John looked over at her and smiled a tiny bit before shaking his head.

" Here, have a look." Sherlock nodded towards Ana's laptop which now sat on the table behind him.

" Hm?" John asked.

" You too, Ana." Sherlock added, clasping his fingers together. She stood and the two walked over to her laptop, which was displaying a news article.

" 'The intruder who can walk through walls'." Ana read, eyebrows scrunching together. So _this _is what Sherlock used her computer for…

" Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside. _Exactly _the same as Van Coon." Sherlock told them, voice hushed.

" God…" John muttered. " You think…?"

" He's killed another." He practically whispered. He unclasped his fingers, pressing them together again, pressing them against his lips, leaning his head forward.

This was getting all the more interesting every second of the day…

_**Afterword: And there is chapter five! Hope you liked it! I just had to put that creepy scene with Sebastian in cause he FREAKS me out… not sure if anyone else is freaked out by him as well, but, he's just… weird. Also, it shows how much Ana cares for the guys! =D **_

_** ONTO REVIEW RESPONSES!**_

**grapejucie101:**_ I'm glad you liked the chapter! Also, I'm really glad you like Ana; she kind of uses comedy to get closer to people, don't you think? Also, we may see her temper some time soon… Thanks again for the review!_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I'm glad you enjoyed it! Hope you liked this one as well! Thanks again! =D_

**LadySurvivor:**_ YAY YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'RE THERE! =D I'm also glad to here I'm keeping the characters in character and such. Thanks again!_

**Phalen Rhude:**_ I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Hope this chapter was satisfactory! Thanks again! _

**Kat:**_ Your review kind of made me jump up and down with joy, no joke. XD I cannot express how happy I am that you've enjoyed this story thus far and that you think I'm doing well with the characters and such! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks so much!_

_**And thank you to those who have added this story to their favorites or story alerts!**_

_** Okay, I did this on one of the last stories I updated, but I'd like to let those of you who read this that I have a poll on my profile for which story you might like to see me do next. I believe the choices are; Batman (Bruce/OC), Indiana Jones (Mutt {Indy's Son}/OC) and The Hangover (Phil/OC). So, I'd appreciate a vote or two! I'm closing it on Thursday so I can start planning it out and begin to get it up! Vote if you'd like!  
Reviews would be loved! I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter and such! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary** _


	7. Six: So, No, Dimmock, Like Ezio Auditore

_Disclaimer: I do NOT own Sherlock (the show or the original works of Arthur Conan Doyle) or ANY of the amazing characters (to my great sadness ='( ) I only own my OC Ana. _

Six

"So, No, Dimmock, Like Ezio Auditore Da Firenze,"

It hadn't surprised John or Ana when Sherlock immediately stood from his chair, grabbing his coat, which the two were learning was a clear sign to grab theirs as well. They all jumped in a cab and let Sherlock tell the driver their destination, which turned out to be; New Scotland Yard.

When they arrived, they went straight to the floor Sherlock was sure Dimmock was working on, and waited as the lift brought them to their destination. Walking out, they all immediately noticed the DI, who was sitting at a tiny little desk in the middle of the office. Dimmock looked up and saw the approaching group and immediately bent his head, rubbing his temples.

" Are you using your computer?" Sherlock inquired as they stopped before his desk. The man opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. " No? Good." Sherlock spun Dimmock's laptop to face himself, and swiftly typed in the URL for the online article about the murdered journalist. " Brian Lukis, freelance journalist, murdered in his flat," Sherlock spun the laptop to face its original owner again, " doors locked from the inside."

" Dimmock, you have to agree with this; the murders are _at least_ similar. Scarily so; two men _both_ murdered by a man who can apparently walk through walls as solid as this desk," Ana said, knocking twice on the desktop before crossing her arms. Dimmock peered at the article, glancing over the words too swiftly before letting out a frustrated sigh, shutting his eyes.

" Inspector, do you seriously think that Eddie Van Coon was just another city suicide?" At the DI's stubborn decision not to speak, Sherlock grit his teeth, sighed and decided to continue. " You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose?" Dimmock nodded slightly. " And that shot that killed him; was it fired from his own gun?"

" No," Dimmock quietly replied.

" No. So, this investigation might move a bit _quicker_ if you were to take my word as gospel," Sherlock said sharply and just a bit angrily. Dimmock didn't reply again. Sherlock gripped the edge of the desk and leaned forward, ice blue eyes narrowing. " I just handed you a murder inquiry. Five minutes in his flat."

O

OOO

O

" Well, if you getting angry gets anything to work out for you, you might want to get angry all the time," Teased Ana in a rather flat tone as they showed up at the murder victim's flat. John rolled his eyes and Sherlock ignored the comment as he ducked under crime scene tape that read 'CRIME SCENE- DO NOT ENTER' on it that was taped diagonally across the flats entrance door, followed by Dimmock and then John and then Ana. The steps were littered with random books, piles spilling out onto the stairs hazardously.

When Sherlock stepped into the flat, he immediately noticed the suitcase on the floor that had brand new luggage tags attached to the handle. Next, he noticed what looked like a piece of black paper folded up to look like a flower. The flat itself was horribly messy; papers spilling onto the floor, books haphazardly tossed everywhere, clothes in piles and hanging on doors, beer bottles and food left out. The sound of squealing breaks from a bus penetrated the walls and Ana's nose crinkled a bit at the off smell to the room. Sherlock's attention was then captured by the window. He stepped over and glanced down, immediately smirking.

" Four floors up," He muttered. " _That's_ why they think they're safe. Put a chain across the door, bolt it shut, they think they're impregnable. They don't reckon for one second that there's another way in."

" I don't understand," Dimmock told him after he listened to Sherlock's mini-rant. Ana smiled, shaking her head as she realized what Sherlock was getting on to. Sherlock passed through the door and back towards the stairs.

" The killer can _climb_. That's how they got in," Ana said in realization. " Albeit, they have to be a damn good one."

" Correct, Ana," Sherlock said as he jumped up on a small ledge just under a sky-light.

" What are you doing?" Dimmock asked as they all followed him.

" He clings to the walls like an insect…" He slammed the lock on the window and it swung open. " _This _is how he got in…"

" _What?_" Dimmock asked, still feeling like he was missing something.

" He climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the room and dropped in through this skylight."

" You're _not_ serious. What, like Spiderman?" Teased Dimmock, beginning to smirk. Ana rolled her eyes and laughed a bit, patting the man's shoulder.

" He scaled _six floors_ of a Dockland's apartment building and jumped the balcony to kill Van Coon."

" Oh-ho, hold on!" Dimmock tried to reason.

" And, of course, that's how he got into the bank, he ran along the window ledge and onto the terrace," He explained, remembering searching the bank.

" So, no, Dimmock, not like Spiderman… like Ezio Auditore da Firenze, get it right," Ana teased with a completely serious voice and serious tone. She smiled at him and turned to go help John continue to search the flat. Sherlock smirked at Ana's comment, which had left Dimmock looking a bit shocked and also a bit lost.

" We have to find out what connects these two men…" Sherlock muttered. He eyed a book and his brow creased slightly. One book with a red cover seemed just a bit more askew than the other. He hopped down a few steps and snatched it up, opening the cover to see a stamp that read:

WEST KENSINGTON LIBRARY

He snapped the book closed and ran down the rest of the steps, calling out,

" Come along, John, Ana!"

The two bolted after him, knowing him well enough to understand that if he got in that cab without them, he'd leave them behind. As they all got in, Ana adjusted the collar of her coat, shivering a bit at the cold air.

" So, what was that comment about?" John asked Ana with curiosity, referring to the comment she made to Dimmock. Ana grinned and laughed a bit.

" Ezio is a videogame character that's an assassin who climbs walls, runs across roofs and all that, so I thought it would be an appropriate comment to make," She explained, laughing. John chuckled shaking his head.

" And it got Dimmock to stop talking," Sherlock added in his usual monotone. " He gets rather annoying; he always interrupts when I'm trying to explain."

" I think he's the only one brave enough to actually attempt that," John muttered. Sherlock shot him a look before turning to look out the window, face thoughtful.

The three entered the West Kensington Library, ready to discover why Sherlock brought them there. They trotted up the escalator and Sherlock immediately scanned bookcases, glancing at the inside cover of the one in hand.

" So, care to tell us why we're at… a library?" John asked with an eyebrow raised as he and Ana followed the tall man through the maze of books.

" The date stamped on the book is the same day that he died," Sherlock explained as he looked up at a book, pulling it out, checking it and replacing it. Mimicking him, John and Ana began to look at books, not quite sure of what they were looking for.

John pulled out a rather thick book and a fairly thin one, creating a large gap on the shelf. His blue eyes immediately took in what was on the back of the shelf and he sighed.

" Sherlock," He said, staring at the yellow paint. Sherlock turned and began to pull out books, placing them in the convenient arms of Ana. She looked over John's shoulder as the trio took in the exact same symbols from the bank.

" Well, looks like we've got a connection," Ana said as she shoved some of the books into Sherlock's hands. With a nod, he shoved them _back_ into her hands, pulling out his mobile and snapping a few photographs. Once the phone was safely back in his coat pocket, Sherlock placed the books back, and it was back home to Baker Street.

O

OOO

O

" So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher for Van Coon, Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in, hours later he dies," Sherlock said as they stood in front of the fireplace and mirror, which had more pictures taped to it.

" The killer finds Lukis at the library, he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen," Continued John, pointing to the new picture of the library cipher.

" Lukis returns home, locks the door to the flat, and then later that night dies too…" Ana murmured. She shook her head as she looked over all the pictures again. " Why do they die, Sherlock?"

" Only the cipher can tell us…" He muttered, placing his fingers on a picture. He stared at the spray of paint that covered the portrait's eyes and then he looked off, a thought striking him loud and clear. He tapped one finger against the picture.

As usual, without a work, he turned on his heel and snatched up his coat and scarf. Sighing, Ana crossed her arms.

" We only just got home," She said to John.

" Well, on cases home usually ends up being wherever Sherlock drags us to," He said in explanation, snatching up his own coat as well.

" Good thing I didn't take off my shoes… would have been running after him barefoot." Ana fixed the front of her dark blue blouse and pulled her coat on, the duo rushing after Sherlock.

They found themselves walking through Trafalgar Square, Sherlock explaining code and its relation to the world.

" The world runs on ciphers and codes, John, Ana… From the million pound security system at the bank to the pin machine you took exception to," He explained as they made their way through the crowd towards the National Gallery. " Cryptography inhabits our every waking moment."

" Yes, okay, but…" John trailed off as they continued to circle the fountain.

" But it's all computer generated electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods can't unravel it," Sherlock explained as they began to trot up the steps to the Gallery.

" So, mind telling us where we're headed?" Ana asked, swiping hair from her face.

" I need some advice," He admitted.

" _What?_" John asked incredulously. Sherlock Holmes needed advice? He'd never thought the day would come! John looked at Ana, who looked equally as shocked. " Sorry?"

" You both heard me perfectly; I'm _not_ saying it again," Sherlock said, not looking at the two, trying to brush off the comment.

" _You_, Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, _brilliant_ Sherlock Holmes needs advice?" Ana asked with a laugh, a smile spreading across her face.

" On _painting_, yes. I need to talk to an expert," He told them, shooting her a look. Then he veered away from the Gallery, heading towards an alley. They found themselves at the back of the Gallery, away from the sound of traffic, approaching a young-man in a paint splotched black coat, spray-painting a metal door. It appeared to be a cop with the face of a pig.

_Guess we know how he feels about law enforcement,_ thought Ana as they continued walking towards him.

" It's part of my new exhibition," He told them as they all stopped and stared at the graffiti on the door. Sherlock glanced at it, reaching inside his coat.

" Interesting," He said in an almost un-interested manor.

" I call it…" He paused and a rather scary looking smile crossed his lips. " Urbanbloodlustfrenzy." He rammed all the words together, making it one word. He chuckled lowly as he shook the spay-paint can again. Ana raised an eyebrow and looked at it again.

" Catchy," John said.

" It's very creative," Ana supplied. The guy turned and winked at her.

" Thanks, love," He thanked, smiling. She gave a quick smile before looking off. " I've got _two minutes_ before a Community Support Officer comes around that corner," He continued to finish his work. He looked at Sherlock. " Could we do this while I'm workin'?" Sherlock merely held out his phone that had the picture of the symbols on it. The young man looked at it, tossed a spray paint can to John and took the phone.

" Know the author?" Asked Sherlock as the young man scrolled through the pictures.

" Recognize the _paint_. Looks like Michigan hardcore propellant. I'd say zinc," He informed. Ana shoved her hands in her jeans pocket and rolled her eyes.

" The symbols. How about those? They look familiar to you?" She asked, tilting her head to one side, an eyebrow raised. He looked over at her and back down to the symbols on the phone screen.

" Not even sure it's a proper language," He said, face scrunching up.

" Two men have been _murdered,_ Raz," Sherlock said in a hushed tone, leaning towards Raz. " Deciphering this is the key to find out who killed them." Raz let out a laugh, shaking his head.

" What, and this is what you've got to go on? It's hardly much, now is it?"

" Are you going to help us or not?" Sherlock asked, face stoic. Raz stared at him, glancing over at Ana and then back to Sherlock.

" I'll ask around," He told them.

" Somebody must know _something_ about it," Sherlock replied. It was obvious he was going to continue, but they were interrupted by a Community Support Officer, just like Raz said.

" Oi!" He shouted, marching towards the four. They all looked all the _two_ officers coming towards them, and Sherlock grabbed his phone and turned and took off, Raz following, Ana not far behind. John was too busy staring at the officers to realize he was now alone. " What the hell do you think your doing?" One officer asked John. " This gallery is a listed public building."

" No, no, wait, wait," John said, as he began to put the pieces together. " It's not _me_ who painted that, I was just holding this for…" He turned to gesture with the paint can to Raz, but found all his companions gone. He sighed. The officer looked at the bag filled with spray paint by John's feet.

" Bit of an enthusiast are we?" The Officer asked, un-amused. John looked between the graffiti painting of the officer and to the real one. He sighed. Of course this would happen to _him_…

Sherlock and Ana didn't stop running till they came to the fountain outside the National Gallery. They stopped to catch their breath and Ana found herself grinning and laughing as she braced her hands against the cold stone of the fountain's edge. She looked up at the cold splashing water, shaking her head.

" I _cannot_ believe we just outran two Support Officers… I can't believe we just left _John_ to take the fall," She laughed shaking her head. Sherlock smiled a bit and let out a chuckle.

" Once again, welcome to my world," Sherlock muttered, shaking a few inky looking curls from his eyes. She smiled and looked up at him, straightening up. " We need to get back to Baker Street. I'll need your assistance in researching some ancient languages; we might be able to find a match that way."

O

OOO

O

It had been maybe a two or so hours after the paint can incident when John furiously slammed the door of 221b closed. He walked in to see Sherlock standing in front of the mirror in the flat, staring at new pages taped up on it as well as the wall around it. Pages upon pages of different languages and writing; Greek alphabet, Egyptian hieroglyphics, Arabic letters, you name it and it was probably hanging there. He had scribbled notes and circled things on various papers, still trying to place it. It wasn't working. Ana was in the kitchen making some tea, hopefully something that may calm John down.

" You've been a while," Sherlock commented lazily, not looking over to John, his icy eyes fixed on the papers in front of him.

" Yeah, well, you know how it is." He tried not to spit his words, attempting to hold back anger. " Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they? Just formalities; fingerprints, _charge sheet_, and I've got to be in _Magistrates Court on Tuesday._"

Sherlock hadn't really heard anything as he stared at a paper in his hand, glancing from that to the mirror.

" What?" He asked again, and John snapped.

" _Me, Sherlock, in court on Tuesday! They've given me an ASBO!_" John sputtered angrily, glaring at the tall man in front of the mirror.

" Good, fine," He muttered again, looking at the sheets of paper in his hands.

" You want to tell your little pal he's welcome to go own up anytime," John muttered as Ana finally came in the room, extending a mug of coffee to John, a small smile on her lips. He nodded to her silently and took it, sipping at the hot liquid within the steaming mug.

" This symbol, I _sill_ can't place it," Sherlock hissed in frustration, jaw clenching. He spun to face John, who was sipping his tea and beginning to pull of his coat. Sherlock rushed over, snatched the mug, and made him pull his coat back on. " No, I need you to go to the police station and ask about the journalist," He told him, John sputtering and protesting as he began to be herded towards the door. " His personal affects would have been impounded, get a hold of his diary or something that will tell us his movements." He pushed John out the door then leaned back inside and grabbed Ana's arm and her coat. He spun her around and forced _her_ coat on, and then pushed her after John. " You go with him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

They all rushed out the door, John sighing, Ana rolling her eyes.

" I'll go and see Van Coon's PA, if we retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide," Sherlock told them as he pulled on his gloves, walking down the street. John looked over at Ana who shrugged and the two both raised their arms to hail a taxi. When it pulled up, John leaned over to the open window and said,

" Scotland Yard."

_**Afterword:**_ _**Sorry for the length, it's a bit short. I hit a really bad creative lull for a few days and haven't been able to write, so this afternoon when I finally woke up, I was like 'I'm gonna finish that chapter!' and I did! I just wanted to get SOMETHING up! Hope it was okay! **_

_** REVIEW RESPONSES! WOOOO!**_

**grapejuice101:**_ Hope you liked the chapter! Thanks again for the review!_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I'm glad you liked the chapter! Hope this one was good as well! Thanks again!_

**LadySurvivor:**_ The password banter will continue, it's a big thing between them, all the way to the end =D Also, I already know the password that will stump Sherlock XD Hope you liked it! Thanks again!_

**Black-Rose Marley:**_ I'm glad you like the story so far! Ahahaha! You will see her temper soon, I hope XD I need to find the right moment for it to happen! Hope you liked the chapter! Thanks again!_

_**And thank you to those who have read this or added it to their story alerts or the favorites! Means the world to me!**_

_** Okay! So! To those who knew about the poll I had up last week, the results for the next story I should to was Batman (Bruce/OC) but a lot of people also wanted me to do a Indiana Jones (Mutt{Indy's son}/OC) story, so, I'll be doing both! =D My brain is gonna explode from all the stories I'm doing XD**_

_** Hope you liked the chapter and the video game references to my fave video game! =D Review and let me know what you think! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary**_


	8. Seven: Lucky Cat

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock (the show or the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle) or any of the characters, although it would be amazing to own them! I only own my OC Ana._

Seven: Lucky Cat

" I swear to God that sometimes Sherlock just does this to torture me… well, now I suppose _us_, seeing as we've both been dragged into all this," John said as the cab began to drive off towards Scotland Yard. Ana smirked and laughed a bit.

" I'm beginning to think that might be true… I'm also beginning to think we'll never be able to be home for more than two minutes anymore," Ana replied, fixing the wrinkled sleeve of her tan coat, which had been wrinkled up due to the force Sherlock used to shove it onto her. John chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, running a hand over his tired looking face.

A few moments passed in silence before Ana looked over at him.

" For what it's worth, I'm sorry about taking off like that at the museum without you. We should all technically be receiving an ASBO and a court date," She told him with a sheepish smile. John looked over at her and smiled a bit. She truly was the most interesting woman he'd ever met.

" Well, if anyone should be getting the ASBO it should be Sherlock; _he's_ the one who befriended the graffiti artist," John joked as the cab turned a corner. Ana laughed and shook her head. She was both exhilarated and confused at the same time; this was all so interesting but everything seemed to be a mashed mess of random facts that didn't seem to quite fit together. Leave it to Sherlock to completely understand the majority of it.

" So…" Ana began, grinning at John. " What about that 'she' you mentioned earlier? You know, when you were talking about your job interview." She wasn't sure if she had been imagining it, but John seemed to blush a bit as he looked out the window. " Come on, you'll have to tell us some time or another," She teased. John gave a sigh of defeat.

" Her name is Sarah…"

O

OOO

O

Sherlock had wedged his way back into the building, making his way back up to Van Coon's office space and walked over to the blond-haired personal assistant named Amanda. She looked up and raised an eyebrow.

" Can I help you?" She asked with both a confused and annoyed tone. Sherlock gave a quick nod, clasping his gloved hands behind his back.

" In fact you can. I need to ask you a few things about Edward Van Coon, do you think you could answer them for me?" He didn't wait for an answer as he then said, " Good, now, I need to know when he got back from his most recent trip as well as what his schedule."

Amanda, looking a little off guard stood and moved to the computer and typed a few things in, Sherlock coming to stand just behind her. She had heard of Van Coon's death the day before and was still in shock because of that. She had pulled herself together though but was obviously loosing her footing because of the tall man standing behind her.

" Um… here's his schedule…" She stared at it for a moment. " He flew back from Dalian Friday… Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team," She told him. Sherlock stared at the illuminated screen and asked,

" Can you print me off a copy?" She stared at him for a moment before turning back to the computer.

" Sure…" She muttered.

" What about the day he died?" He gestured to the date. " Can you tell me where he was?"

" Sorry, bit of a gap," Amanda informed as she saw the blank square. Sherlock let out an agitated sigh, looking off with his jaw clenched. Amanda paused as she stared at him. " I have all his receipts," She offered helpfully. Sherlock looked over at her and nodded in means of saying that would do. She went to retrieve them from a file and came back, spreading them out on a clear spot on the desk.

" What kind of boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?" Sherlock asked as he stared at the receipts before him.

" No, that's not a word I'd use," She said with a quiet laugh, looking to her clasped hands. Sherlock crouched down, sweeping the back of his coat out behind him as he did so, as not to step on the hem as he began to scan over the papers. " The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag."

Sherlock's icy eyes flicked up and caught sight of an expensive bottle of hand-lotion.

" Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he?" He asked, not particularly listening for a response. She just stared at him surprised as he continued to sift through receipts. He picked up a taxi card, glanced at the date and times and handed it to Amanda. " Look at this one. Got a taxi from home on the day he died £18.50." Sherlock began to sort through more receipts.

" That would get him to the office…" Amanda told him, trailing off.

" Not rush hour, mid morning. Eighteen would get him as far as…"

" The West End. I remember him saying."

Sherlock snatched up a card for the Underground with his nimble fingers, noting the date.

" Underground, printed at one, in Piccadilly," He told her, handing her that card as well. She raised an eyebrow at him, trying to piece the information together.

" So he got a tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town and then the tube back?" She asked, almost to herself.

" Because he was delivering something heavy… You don't want to lug a package on an escalator," Sherlock said, voice void of emotion, but it was clear that he thought it should be obvious why Van Coon would have done it. But, of course, Amanda was clueless.

" Delivering?"

" To someone near Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package, delivered it, and then…" He grabbed another receipt, this one for a restaurant called Piazza Espresso Bar Italiano, standing. " He stopped on his way. He got peckish."

With that said, he spun on his heel, swiftly leaving the office without a word to Amanda, receipt still clutched in his hand. She stared after him, brows furrowed as he disappeared from sight. What an odd man…

O  
OOO

O

John and Ana wove their way upstairs and to Dimmock's deck in the New Scotland Yard building. Ana was contemplating on whether Dimmock would actually give them the journal, or just yell at them and call security to ask them to leave, which wouldn't be a very savory moment.

" This should be fun," She whispered to John as they approached Dimmock, who when he caught sight of the trio, immediately sighed. John chuckled quietly, nodding. He looked over at Ana and smirked.

" But at least Sherlock isn't with us; if he was, I'm sure we'd just have to listen to him yell insults and get us no where," John pointed out. Ana laughed.

" And then we'd have to do something highly illegal to attain this journal. I don't doubt that won't happen one day."

" I'm sure it will…"

" What the hell do you two want? Where's your friend?" Dimmock asked, already sounding put-off.

" He isn't with us," Ana told him, gesturing around. " We're Sherlock-less, he's off doing something else." Dimmock's eyebrows rose.

" Really?"

" Yes, shocking isn't it?"

" So, why are you here then?" He asked, leaning back in his seat, seeming to relax in only the slightest.

" We need to see the Journalist's things, we're thinking maybe there could be something there that might give us a possible lead," John explained, moving his hands to his pockets. Dimmock thought it over a moment. With a sigh, he grabbed the desk phone and punched in a few numbers.

" This DI Dimmock… Yes, could I have that box of Brian Lukis' personal affects brought up to my desk, please… Yes, from forensics… alright, thank you." He hung up and looked at the two. " It'll be right up."

A few minutes later the box arrived and Dimmock began sorting through it to find the journal. The trio were awkwardly quiet as he did so, none sure of what to exactly say.

" Your friend…" Dimmock began. John sighed, knowing exactly where this was going.

" Listen, whatever you say, I'm behind you one hundred percent," John told him, voice flat and tired.

" He's and arrogant sod," He stated, sifting through some more of Lukis' things.

" Well, that was mild," John mused with a shocked smile. " People say a lot worse than that."

Dimmock held out a small black book and John stared at it for a moment, trying to remember if he'd asked for it specifically.

" This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary?" Dimmock asked with a raised eyebrow. If they wanted something that would give them a lead, the little black diary was probably what they were looking for.

Ana reached out and took it, thumbing through the thin pages, which were filled with receipts, scrap paper and other scribblings by Lukis. She found a page that held a calendar and found an airline boarding pass. It was to Dalian, from London. She raised an eyebrow and looked at John, who was staring at the pass as well. She turned another page and found the last thing written. An address. With a snap, she shut the journal and beamed at Dimmock.

" Thank you very much for the journal, I promise we'll keep it safe. Have a nice afternoon, Dimmock!" She told him, taking John's arm and leading him from the office, back to the street to find a taxi. She flipped back to the address and held the book out to John.

" Best bet is we'll find something about him where ever this place is," She told him, tapping the page where the address was. John nodded in agreement as a taxi stopped for them.

" Well, let's hope this'll help…" He muttered, climbing into the taxi.

O

OOO

O

Sherlock walked down the street, sun shinning on his back, eyes trained on the receipt in hand. He looked up to a building and found a matching sign. He sighed.

" So you bought your lunch from here en rout from the station, but where were you headed _from?_" Sherlock asked to himself, spinning slightly on his heels to look around the street. " _Where_ did the taxi drop you?" He turned his back and began to walk backwards, but soon collided with someone and grunted. He turned to see who had run into him and saw a surprised looking John and a startled Ana.

John held the diary in his hands, opened to the right page as Ana's gaze shifted from a store across the street. After immediately registering the fact that they were there, Sherlock began a spiel.

" Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died, whatever was hidden inside that case." John tried to speak, but found he couldn't so he looked back down at the book, scratching his head. Ana sighed in exasperation as Sherlock began to talk after a brief pause. " I've managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information; credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here.

" Sherlock," John said firmly, trying to interrupt the second man's thought process. Unfortunately, Sherlock's brain was going a mile a minute and refused to use breaks.  
" Somewhere in this street, somewhere near. I don't know where but…" Sherlock turned away to look around, but his head snapped towards the other two when Ana's hand gripped his left arm.

" _That_ shop over there," John told him, pointing directly across the street. Sherlock stared at the shop for a moment, mind screeching to a un-graceful halt. His brow furrowed.

" How could you tell?" He asked the two. Ana sighed and gestured to the diary.

" Lukis was here too, just check his diary. The man was organized in a slightly sloppy way, but he _did_ write down the address," Ana said, slight exasperation creeping into her normally calm voice. She and John turned and made their way across the street, both mentally smiling at the fact they had figured it out so easily while Sherlock had been mentally straining to find the answer. Sherlock blinked and froze where he stood.

" Oh," He muttered, swiftly catching up to the two.

The three made their way to the store that had the address written in Lukis' diary. It was an old Chinese shop named the Lucky Cat. Stepping inside, they were immediately surrounded by dozens upon dozens of those cat statues with the waving paw, the lucky cat. There were some jars filled with incense and a few ornately decorated fans on the walls as well. Tea pots sat on shelves and there were small Terracotta Warrior statues on display along with painted scrolls. An older Chinese woman stood behind the counter, watching them as they walked in.

" Hello," John said to her, beginning to look around. Sherlock stared at a few of the waving cats, brow creased in the slightest. The store was filled with faint clicking as the cat statues moved, almost like they were in a room full of clocks. Ana smiled and stared at one of the cats. She'd owned one before, when she was in school. It had sat on her desk and she always stared at it when she was stuck on a paper. Unfortunately it got knocked off said desk and broke.

" You want lucky cat?" The woman asked them.

" No, thanks, no," John told her.

" Ten pound, ten pound!" The woman insisted. John smiled a bit and shook his head slightly, standing next to Ana. " I think your wife, she will like," The woman told him, nodding at Ana. Both their eyes widened and they looked at each other.

" Oh, no, no we're not… we're not married," Ana said with a smile and a shake of the head as she pointed to John.

" Not at all," John added and they left it at that. The two glanced at each other again and shook their heads. Both were suddenly a little put-off at the comment; they didn't look like a couple, did they?

John stared down at a set up of small tea cups and picked one up, flipping it over to look at the bottom. What he saw made him freeze. It was a line and what looked to be a half-written eight. Just like the cipher.

" Sherlock?" John called out, staring at the red marks. Sherlock, who'd been closely expecting a Terracotta Warrior statue, set the item down and walked over. " The label there?" John pointed. Sherlock glanced at it and looked back up. Of course…

" Yes, I see it," He told him.

" Exactly the same as the cipher," John said, showing it to Ana, who stared at it, blinking a few times.

" Come along, John, Ana, I think I understand it now," Sherlock said, swiftly leaving the shop, the bell above the door tinkling. The two rushed out after him, careful not to run into anything. Sherlock was making his way back down the street, a smirk on his face. He looked so eager to share what he'd just discovered and as his two friends stepped up on either side of them, he began to speak.

" It's an ancient number system; Hang Zhou! These days, only street traders use it. Those were _numbers_ written on the wall at the bank and at the library. Numbers written in an ancient Chinese dialect," He said as he moved to a vegetable stand on the side of the road, gesturing to the signs, where there were normal numbers as well as the numbers written in the Chinese dialect.

" It's a fifteen!" John said in surprise. " What we thought was the artist's tag, it's a number fifteen." Ana shook her head, letting out a small laugh as she thought about it.

" Suppose that might make a bit of sense now; both show up here and both find Chinese numbers, that has to be of some significance some how," She mused, running a hand through her hair.

" The blindfold, the horizontal line, that was a number as well." Sherlock held up a price tag in front of the two. " Chinese number _one_, Ana, John." The three grinned.

" We've found it!" John exclaimed happily. Glancing up as they began to walk away, John thought he'd noticed a woman in black, eyes covered by sunglasses, taking a picture with her mobile. A picture of _them_. But as he glanced off and back again, the woman was gone. He was probably just seeing things, the stress from the case managing to get to his head.

Sherlock led them to a small café across from the Lucky Cat, and they took the window seat, John and Sherlock facing each other, Ana facing the window. Sherlock was scribbling their findings down on a paper napkin as Ana and John ordered some lunch, which he refused to order; digestion messed with his thought process.

" Two men travel back from China. Both head straight to the Lucky Cat Emporium. What did they see?" John wondered as he noted a few things as well.

" It's not what they saw, it's what they both brought back in those suitcases," Sherlock told the two, his voice hushed.

" You don't think duty free?" John asked, the three quieting down when the waitress brought their food.

" Thanks," Ana told her and carefully nudged Sherlock's napkin to the side as not to dirty it. They waited till the waitress was out of ear shot before they continued to speak.

" Think about what Sebastian told us about Van Coon, about how he stayed afloat in the market," Sherlock told him.

" Lost five million," John commented.

" Made it back in a week." Sherlock looked over to the shop. " That's how he made so much money." Ana froze, shutting her eyes, both she and John coming to a realization.

" Smuggler… he was a smuggler," She muttered nodding.

" A guy like him, it would have been perfect. A businessman taking frequent trips to Asia. Lukis was the same, a journalists writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff out. The Lucky Cat was their drop off," He explained, voice still hushed.

" But why did they die?" John asked after a beat. " It doesn't make sense. If they both turned up at the shop to deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them _and_ kill them after the event, _after_ they had finished the job?"

Sherlock stopped to think about John's words and slowly a small smile snuck its way across his face.

" What if one of them was light fingered?" He asked.

" How do you mean?"

" Stole something, something from the hoard," He continued to explain. A look of understanding crossed John's face.

" And the killer doesn't know which of them took it, so he threatens them both, right," John said with a nod, excitement creeping into his voice. Ana nodded as well, leaning back in her seat, arms crossed. Sherlock looked across the street, noting something odd; a phonebook on a door step that was coated in plastic and covered in water droplets.

" Remind me… when was the last time that it rained?" He asked. And without an answer, he stood, leaving the café. Ana and John stared after him, Ana eagerly following, leaving John quickly trying to follow.

Ana rushed across the street, managing to catch up with Sherlock, who glanced over at her. He noted the fact that she was attempting to cover up her excitement from all the discoveries made. He could also tell that despite the fact she'd been keeping quiet, the gears in her head were constantly shifting, silently attempting to piece the story together. Ana was enjoying the mystery and getting caught up in it, and as she walked along beside him, it looked like this was what she lived for.

" So, tell me, last time it rained, when was it?" Sherlock asked her. Ana thought a moment, counting back the days.

" Monday," She informed. He stopped at the dirt-stained door and bent over, running a thumb over the top of the Yellow-Pages book, which had been exposed, the plastic no longer covering the top corner. It was wet.

" It's been here since Monday," He confirmed, standing up. He pressed the doorbell, which was located just under a name tag that read 'Soo Lin Yao'. When no one answered, he backed up, heading for the alley beside the house. John gave him a look. John and Ana followed him down a dark alley as he said, " No one's been in that flat for at least three days."

" It could be just as simple as they went on holiday or something like that," Ana pointed out. Sherlock looked up and saw the ladder for the fire escape leading to the windows of the flat, which were open.

" Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow. Ana looked up and noted the exact same thing.

" I… I suppose not," She admitted, scratching the back of her head. She looked over at him and saw a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. She glared. " Oh, shut up."

" I didn't say anything," He told her.

" But you were thinking it," She replied smirking. He smirked in response and backed up a few steps before running forward and pulling down the fire escape ladder, swiftly climbing up. It creaked and groaned back into place once he'd made it up and John and Ana stared after him in shock.

" What the hell?" Ana muttered.

" Sherlock!" John called in a harsh mutter. The two ran back to the front door, feet splattering in dirty puddles as they went.

" Great, our flat mate isn't only just a high functioning sociopath, he's becoming a burglar as well!" Ana said with an almost sarcastic groan as they skid to a stop on the pavement by the flat's door.

_**Afterword: And this chapter is finally up! Sorry about the wicked late update, I found it oddly hard to write this chapter… Also, I had a crap ton of homework. It was really rude of the teachers to pile it on us within the first week or two of school… I finally finished it though! I hope you liked it though! **_

_**Review Replies! =D**_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I'm glad you liked the last chapter! I hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks again!_

**Black-Rose Marley:**_ I'm glad you pointed that out, I really am, I'd been finding it hard to figure out where to put in more original scenes, but I worked harder on trying to fit them into this chapter. I hope it was better than last time! Thanks again for pointing it out again! Thanks for the review!_

**kawaiipandaz:**_ I'm glad you liked the chapter and enjoyed the A.C. reference! Love that game XD I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks again!_

**grapejuice101:**_ Glad that you liked the chapter! Thank you so much for reviewing! _**xxxmylifeisadreamsweetyxxx:**_ I hope you liked the chapter! I'm glad you're enjoying the chapter so far! Thanks again!_

**TheMagentaColor:**_ I hope you liked the update! I'm really happy to hear that you've enjoyed the story so far! =D Thanks so much!_

**cyn4675:**_ I actually really like that idea… it would be really interesting to see what Sherlock would do! I think I might try to fit that in some how, cause I think it would be funny if Sherlock somehow messed up her love life XD Thanks again for the review!_

_**Also thank you to those who have added this to their story alerts/favorites. It means so much to me! **_

_** Alright-y then! =D I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Also, would anyone like to see Sherlock dragged to Ana's friend's wedding to see what he would do? I was thinking of maybe doing that in another chapter some time later… Anyway, please review to let me know what you thought! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary**_


	9. Eight: All Choked Up

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock (the show, any of the movies, or the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle) or any of the characters. I only own my OC Ana._

Eight: All Choked Up

The moment Sherlock stepped through the open window, he knocked over a vase, aptly spilling some of the water out of it. He caught it quickly, noticing a larger spatter of water on the carpet, not something he had just caused. He slowly straightened up, looking around.

" Someone else has been here," He called out, hoping that his voice would carry to the door where John and Ana no doubt had returned to. He plopped the vase back down. " Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase… just like I did."

He turned his attention to the washer in the corner of the room and pulled the door open, removing an article of clothing. He held it up to his nose and sniffed. His nose scrunched up a bit just as the doorbell rang. Throwing the offending article of clothing back into the washer, he straightened up and turned his attention to the table.

" Think maybe you could let us in this time?" John asked through the door. Sherlock ignored him and continued to look around. John angrily bent over and lifted the metal flap over the mail slot and used it to speak through. " Can you not keep doing this please?" He asked.

Sherlock opened a container of milk and sniffed it before quickly putting it back, eyes drawn to the living room floor.

" I'm not the fist!" He called out again.

Outside John and Ana exchanged looks, hearing him say muffled words, but nothing discernable.

" Say that again?" Ana asked through the mail slot.

" Somebody's been in here before me!"

" What are you saying?" John asked again. Sherlock noticed a crinkle in the carpet of the living room, where someone's foot scrunched it up. He observed it and made a few quick calculations in his head.

" Size eight feet…" He moved aside the beads hanging in the doorway from the kitchen to get a better look. " Small, but… athletic."

John stood up and sighed, shaking his head as he looked at Ana.

" We're wasting our breath!" He said, shoving a finger against the doorbell again. Ana sighed and began to walk towards the alley.

" I'm going to try and get up there, I think it might be the only way to get him to either, one, get out, or two, tell us what the hell's going on," She told John, making her way back towards the fire escape.

Sherlock was observing finger smudges on the picture of two small children, using a small handheld, retractable magnifying glass.

" Small, strong hands… our acrobat," He muttered to himself, setting the picture down and snapping the magnifying glass shut. " Why didn't he close the window when he left?" A look of understanding crossed his face. " Oh, stupid, _stupid…_ Obvious… he's still here." He looked over at a black room divider decorated with silver cranes and Chinese drawings. He slowly inched towards it, trying to keep his footsteps light and unnoticeable. He grabbed the edge and pulled it back. Nothing.

Something wrapped around his throat from behind, yanking him backwards. He began to choke as a white cloth slowly tightened around his neck, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor on his knees.

Ana stared up at the ladder that required a running start to grab onto and pull down. She pursed her lips and rubbed her hands together before shaking her head and backing up. Sherlock was tall with long limbs, making a jump like this easy. Ana was fairly shorter than him, making it seem like this could very well end up with her sitting in a puddle of dirty rain water.

" Lets hope school gym classes will help me out here…" Ana muttered. She readied herself before running forward and jumping, just barely able to snag the bottom of the ladder with one hand, pulling it down. She smirked. " Looks like I don't have to be as tall as Sherlock after all."

Back inside the flat, Sherlock was gripping at the cloth his attacker was using to choke him with, trying to get them to let go.

" Any time you want to include me!" John yelled through the mail slot, unaware of Sherlock's choking trouble.

" _John!_" Sherlock managed to choke out, now laying on the floor. " _Ana_!" His vision was slowly getting blurry and his head was spinning.

John shook his head, backing away from the door, talking to himself.

" I'm _Sherlock Holmes_ and I always work alone because no one can compete with my," John said, running over to the door to shout through the mail slot, " _massive intellect!_"

Sherlock's grip on the cloth slackened and his eyes shut, beginning to fall unconscious. His attacker released the cloth, setting something in Sherlock's pocket as he quickly began to come to.

Ana tripped through the window at that moment, knocking over the vase and setting right side up again, turning to see a man dressed in black, turning away from a very pale looking Sherlock with a piece of white sheet around his neck.

" Oh no…" She muttered, seeing the man spot her. She realized she had two options; she could scramble back through the window and hope to make it away, or she could do the incredibly stupid thing and attack whoever probably assaulted Sherlock.

She chose the stupid option.

Ana ran forward towards the man only to find herself shoved into the wall and with something around her neck. It tightened suddenly and violently, causing her breath to immediately cut off, she dropped to the floor. Her face began to heat up, head beginning to pound. She continued to feel the pressure slowly increase till it suddenly disappeared, the man having decided to take off, seeing as Sherlock had suddenly began to cough horrible, sitting up. He got onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath, just as Ana yanked off what had been choking her: Sherlock's scarf.

She coughed and placed a hand on her neck. She coughed as well, staying on her knees, head pressed against the cool wall. Sherlock let out one last haggard breath before finally seeing Ana slouched against the wall, looking the way he felt, his scarf in her hand. He pulled off the item that'd been used to strangle him and moved forward a bit on his hands and knees towards Ana. She looked up and held out his scarf, not saying a word. She sucked in a breath and coughed again, using the wall to help her stand. Sherlock took his scarf, looping it back around his neck.

Ana used the wall to support herself as she tried to regain composure. Neither of them spoke as they tried to at least attempt to seem normal again. No need for John to know about this… Sherlock, for one, would never admit this ever happened in a life time, Ana, on the other hand, might mention it if she ever goes into therapy… which seemed like that might happen if she continued to do cases with the two boys of 221b.

Sherlock pulled out something from his pocket. It was an origami black lotus. It had been what their attacker had placed in his pocket. He stood, swaying slightly. He blinked and fixed his scarf again, then his coat and sniffed, heading towards the door, Ana not too far behind.

John watched as the door opened and Sherlock and Ana stood there, looking a bit frazzled.

" The milk's gone and the washing's started to smell," Sherlock informed, voice hoarse. " Somebody left in a hurry three days ago." His voice began to give out again, sounding horribly off and weak.

" Somebody?" John asked, brows furrowing.

" Soo Lin Yao," Ana said, voice not any better than Sherlock's. She tapped the name card by the door and coughed. " She lives here." Her voice squeaked a bit at the end.

" We have to find her," Sherlock said with a cough, the sentence barely discernable. He bent over and picked up a note that had been slid under the door.

" How exactly?" John wondered out loud. The note in Sherlock's hand read:

**Soo Lin**

**Please ring me. Tell me you're OK.**

**Andy**

Unfolding the paper, the words _NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES MUSEUM_ stared up at him.

" We could start with this." Sherlock and Ana stepped out of the house and slammed the door.

" You've both gone all croaky," John commented as they as stared to walk down the street. " Are you getting a cold?" Sherlock coughed again, assuring his friend,

" I'm fine."

" Yeah, I might be coming down with something…" Ana nodded, clearing her throat again, adjusting her coat collar.

O

OOO

O

" Are _sure_ you're both alright?" John asked when they were in the cab on the way to the museum.

" Of course! Like you said, it's a cold," Ana told him, voice still scratchy.

" Both of you catch a cold at the exact same time?"

" We do all live together, don't we? Not that improbable, you'll be next, John."

" So, nothing happened back there?" John pushed.

" Absolutely not, Ana might have made me jump a bit, but other than that just an empty flat," Sherlock told John, waving a hand in a dismissing manor. John gave a skeptical look and Ana jabbed a finger into his chest.

" Like I said, _you're next_. You'll get sick before you know it."

O

OOO

O

It wasn't hard finding out which Andy had been trying to contact Soo Lin; there was only one man by that name in the same department she worked in. He looked rather awkward and wore a wrinkled burgundy sweater over a button down and slightly crooked tie with a nametag pinned the left side of the sweater, and he looked up in surprise as they approached him quickly while he was working, standing in the middle of an exhibit. Knowing Sherlock would do away with formalities and immediately question the poor young man, Ana stepped forward first. Glancing at his nametag, making sure his name was Andy, she smiled.

" Hello, sorry to bother you, but I'm Ana Stuart and this is John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. We've been working with Scotland Yard on a case and were wondering if maybe you'd be able to answer a few questions for us," She said kindly, noting his look of shock. Sherlock rolled his eyes. She always seemed to be one to try and pull him in the direction of formalities and rules, just like John… He mentally made it a challenge to get her to stop following the rules. That was a battle he knew he'd win.

" S-Scotland Yard? Why would you need to ask _me_ questions?" He asked, stuttering slightly.

" It's about Soo-Lin," Sherlock interjected, stepping forward, face clear of emotion, like usual. Ana stepped back to stand beside John, shoving her hands in her pockets. Andy nodded.

" Of course, ask."

The exhibit they stood in was full of gorgeous Chinese artifacts. Ana had immediately relaxed when she stepped into the museum; the quiet atmosphere was calming and being surrounded by history was never a bad thing… in her opinion at least.

Sherlock eyed all the artifacts critically, a brow arched, walking towards Andy.

" When was the last time that you saw her?" Sherlock questioned.

" Three days ago, here at the museum. This morning they told me she had resigned, just like that," Andy explained as Sherlock's attention locked on a case full of teapots and teacups. " Just left her work unfinished. Turning and walking back to Ana, John and Andy, Sherlock asked,

" What was the last thing she did on her final afternoon?"

" Um, here, I'll show you," Andy said, leading them out of the room, and towards the doors to some of the archives. The room was large and filled with shelves and covered statues and such. He flipped the lights on and began to explain. " She does this demonstration for the tourists, a tea ceremony. So… she would have packed up her things and just put them in here." He began to rotate a crank on the outside of one of the moving shelves, which creaked slightly as it turned. John and Ana stayed by him but Sherlock kept walking forward, noticing something _very_ out of place.

A white marble statue of a woman with a line of yellow sprayed across its eyes and a line with what looked to be an unfinished eight underneath it on its chest. It was the cipher again.

Everyone turned and looked at the defiled piece of art, Ana and John's eyes widening.

" Oh no…" Ana muttered, rubbing her eyes as her heart dropped.

" Oh no? Why oh no?" Andy asked in confusion.

" It's nothing, Andy, thank you, I think we should all get going, _right?_" Ana said quickly nodding towards the door urgently. If this meant what she thought it did, Soo-Lin was in great danger and they had to get to her _fast_.

" Yes, I think we should. Come along, John, Ana, we have more things to do," Sherlock said, voice still in a dead-pan manner as he turned on his heel and strode from the room, hands in his pockets, the back of his coat billowing out behind him.

_**Afterword: Okay, sorry about the length; I was about to make it longer, but I know I haven't updated in a while so I decided that a short chapter might do well just to get something up and to motivate me. I'm also sorry about the long wait. My life hasn't been too kind to me in means of free-time with my play, my homework, general stress and the fact that I had to catch up on a whole lot of school work after getting sick for a while. I hope the chapter was okay-ish!**_

_**REVIEW REPLIES!**_

**grapejuice101:**_ I'm glad you've been enjoying! Sorry about the late update and hope it was okay! Thanks again!_

**AlmaLucia:**_ I'm so happy you're enjoying it so far! I'm sorry about the late update and such, life likes to get in the way. Thanks again and hope you liked this chapter!_

**Gwilwillith: **_Thanks! I hope this one was okay despite the length and such XD Thanks again!_

**TheMagentaColor:**_ I'm pretty convinced I'm gonna put in the wedding thing in… it would be funny to see what he'd do… any way, thanks so much for the review and hope you enjoyed!_

**Black-Rose Marley:**_ I'm glad you liked the original scenes in the last chapter, and I'm sorry there aren't many in this one: I just wanted to get one up so I could get a bit more motivated for another longer chapter next time, which will have even more original scenes. But yeah, Sherlock is going to mess with her love life. I have the PERFECT guy for Ana to date that would piss Sherlock off XD Can't wait to write it! Sorry about the lack of original scenes, but I hoped you liked it regardless!_

**SerenityMoonPrincess:**_ I'm glad you like it so far! I'm glad you've found the story and like it! Anyway, I'm so happy you like Ana too and I hope you'll stick around to read more! Thanks again!  
_**Miriam Gill:**_ Thanks for the review! Hope it wasn't too short and hope you liked it! Thanks again!_

**And thank you to all who have added this to story alerts/favorites it means so much to me!**

_** Alright, so, unfortunately, this is it till the next chapter! Sorry about the length and such but I hope it satisfied you all till the next, longer chapter can get written and posted! Thanks so much guys! Review and let me know how it was, I'm always open to suggestions and such! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary**_


	10. Nine: Round and Round

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own Sherlock (the television series and its characters) or any of the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle and anything associated with it (books, characters, movies etc.) I only own my OC Ana._

Nine: Round and Round

The trio exited the museum with swift steps, stepping outside into the evening and the nightly sounds of London meeting their ears. Ana buttoned up her coat again, trying to fight off the chill that had entered the air. To say that she wasn't feeling a slight bit of panic would have been a lie. They needed to find Soo Lin before anything horrible happened to her, like the banker and the journalist.

" We need to get to Soo Lin Yao," Sherlock said, calm as ever. He slipped his hands into his pockets and continued to stride down the steps. John let out a little sigh as he fixed his own coat, shaking his head in the slightest.

" If she's still alive," He added.

" Can we attempt to stay positive, it will keep us on a better track," Suggested Ana. " I mean if we believe she's still alive, it gives us all the more motivation to get her back.

" Sherlock!" Shouted a voice. They all turned to see none other than Raz come bolting towards them. John felt a bit of anger as he saw him, the guy who left him to face the cops, earning John an ASBO. He let out a sigh.

" Look who it is…" He muttered.

" I've found something you'll like," Raz told them as he stopped beside John. As he led the way towards whatever they were apparently going to like, John's jaw clenched as he shot him a look. Ana nudged his arm and smiled a bit with a roll of her eyes. John knew that the roll of the eyes was more directed towards Sherlock, who'd asked nothing to Raz, but merely followed. This was going to be interesting…

After walking for a good ten minutes Ana became admittedly frustrated.

" _Where_ exactly are we going?" She asked as she avoided running into a man in a long tan over-coat.

" Be patient, alright?" Raz said to her, smiling. She shot him a look, becoming just as put off with him as John was. They found themselves beginning to walk over a bridge that was adjacent to a raised train track.

" I'll show you patient…"

" You _do_ know you earned me an ASBO, right?" John finally broke, snapping at Raz. The younger man snorted and rolled his eyes.

" Really? What for?" John gave him an incredulous look, eyes widening in shock.

" Graffiti on public property! They didn't take to kindly to your… _art._ Look, Tuesday morning, all you have to do is show up and say the bag is yours!"

" Can we forget about your court date?" Sherlock asked monotonously, looking straight ahead. John let out a huff of frustration, shooting his flat-mate a look. Ana wrapped an arm around John's shoulders and pat his arm as they continued to walk, none of the four noticing the woman who watched at a distance…

A skate park.

Raz led them to a graffiti covered skate park (or, rather, it was a type of under-pass no one really used, but with the steps and different height levels, it was perfect for skaters), where each inch of cement was seemingly covered in paint. Ana stared around at the kids who skated about, easily doing tricks and knew if she had _ever_ tried anything like that, she would end up in the hospital. Sherlock mentally smirked as he looked around. Brilliant, he had to admit. If one wanted to hide something…

" If you want to hide a tree, then a forest is the best place to do it, wouldn't you say?" He asked out loud, scanning the walls. " People would just walk _straight_ past, not knowing unable to decipher the message."

" With all this paint how on earth did you find anything?" Ana questioned Raz, turning around in a small circle to admire all the work that so many people had put into the markings around her.

" A bit of talent, ya know? Work with paint, you can pick up things you wouldn't have before. Impressed?" He asked with a smirk, walking right beside her. Sherlock arched a dark brow as he looked over to see Ana's reaction. He had been clearly flirting with her since he first met her in the alley. Ana had definitely noticed it, and had been uncomfortable earlier, but now she just rolled her eyes. She looked over at him and smirked slightly before putting her cold hands in her jean pockets.

" I'd say yes, but, unfortunately, it's a pretty easy talent to uphold, my friend uses it all the time to know which patrons are good tippers at the pub we work at," Ana told him. John stifled a chuckle and Sherlock let out a tiny smirk. Raz looked her over with a indiscernible look before suddenly pointing across at a wall, ignoring her comment.

" There! I spotted it earlier," He told them as they walked over.

Sure enough, parts of the mysterious yellow cipher were peaking out from behind a different image, having been covered up. Sherlock eyed it quickly a few times and then turned back to Raz, jabbing a finger towards the markings, brows raised.

" And that's the _exact _same paint?" He asked, sounding slightly excited.

" Yeah." Ana stepped over to it and ran her fingers along the image that now covered the yellow marks. She wondered if the image had been purposely put over them to hide it from anyone who might know what it meant.

" They could have used this place to practice," Ana said to them, still tracing the paint slightly with frozen finger tips, brows furrowed in thought. " They had to have known the cipher would be covered up pretty quickly, so why not practice where no one will really care if they cover up someone else's work?"

Sherlock nodded, thinking over her, quite sound, logic.

" Exactly. And even if it _didn't_ get cover up, which of our two victims thus far would have come here? A banker and a journalist. Not many banking deals or propositions could be struck up amongst skaters and there isn't much to write about. Brilliant…" He muttered while another plan began turning in his head. Ana smirked at her own idea being as recognized as it could be by Sherlock, which rarely happened with anyone. " John, Ana, if we're going to decipher this code, we're going to need to look for more evidence. Everyone will split up, if anyone finds anything, run to find the others." With that, he strode away, sharp blue eyes scanning everything as he whipped out a flashlight.

" Well, let's get to it then," Ana said, heading in the opposite direction of Sherlock. John followed, planning to split up once they got back outside.

" This is not how I pictured spending tonight," John admitted with a slight trace of annoyance in his voice.

" What, spending the night in the cold with a graffiti artist looking for a cipher wasn't your ideal night?" Asked Ana sarcastically, smiling. John chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head.

" Actually, I was looking forward for a night of telly with some tea and biscuits…"

Sherlock found himself in a back alley sort of area; he was looking everything over with his flashlight. As he walked, the gears of his mind continued to turn restlessly, he thought of Chinese numbers, each one seemingly appearing in his lower vision towards the ground, coming in and fading away again as he searched. He stepped over to a train track and hopped into the gravel, spotting something rather important. A can of yellow spray paint. Holding the flashlight between his lips, he pulled off a glove and picked up the can, using his bare fingers to touch the nozzle… his fingers getting traces of the bright paint on them. He sniffed it, ending up inhaling the strong fumes. It was freshly used. He looked up and around, figuring out where to go next.

John walked inside a white-tiled tunnel, looking at the posters on the walls along with the graffiti. A siren wailed close by, and the freezing air bit at his cheeks as he walked. He wasn't having any such luck with finding anything clue worthy. Just torn up sheets of paper, the odd piece of rubbish on the ground and every piece of graffiti that was not a cipher.

Ana was searching the back walls of near-by buildings, glancing up at the paint, scanning for any sign of the bright yellow cipher. She went as far as picking up a bit of broken glass and chipping at the paint on the walls, seeing if anything was covered up; all she ended up with was bits of paint and a few minor scratches on her fingers that she made note to clean the moment she got back to the flat.

The only successful one out of the Baker Street Trio seemed to be the inky-haired detective, who came across a paint stricken poster on a wall for a traveling Chinese circus, advertising that it was in London for one night only. It also read that it featured people called 'The Wu Shu Warrior' and 'The Deadly Chinese Bird-Spider' and 'The Monkey King.' Sherlock, immediately taking note of the 'one night only' bit also containing the address and box-office number, tore said corner off, with a swift movement and a loud _rip!_ That circus might come into play.

Soon enough, John found himself walking down another stretch of the railroad track that Sherlock had been on earlier. With his own flashlight in hand (something he learned to carry around from his friend), he scanned the gravel underneath his feet. He was mostly aimlessly wandering, hoping Sherlock might come dashing up to yank him and Ana to whatever important clue he had probably found. But he noticed something… on the wooden planks of the track there were drops of… yellow. Yellow paint! He followed the drop trail to where it then hit the rail and then the gravel… right to a wall with the Chinese markings on them. He backed up to see the _entire _brick wall covered in the numbers. He scrambled in his pockets for his phone, ready to call Sherlock.

Of course, Sherlock being… well… Sherlock, did not answer his phone, seeing as he had been in deep thought.

" Answer your phone! I've been calling you!" A disgruntled sounding John called out to him as he ran over, panting. Sherlock gave him an odd look. John had been ringing him? In fact… he hadn't heard his phone ring… or vibrate if it had been on silent… actually… did he even have it on him? John, seeing his confused face sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. " I found it." He smiled. Sherlock began to run towards the direction John had come from. " Shouldn't we find Ana?"

" She'll find us eventually! Come on!" Sherlock called out, causing John to bolt ahead of him to lead the way. As they ran, John managed to send a shaky text to Ana, which should have read 'Found the cipher, come down the train track,' but ended up being those words with other jumbled letters here and there.

Slowly down as they neared the wall, John was shocked to find the red brick now painted black. His blue eyes widened as his forehead creased in confusion.

" It's been painted over!" He exclaimed in shock. Sherlock looked around, shining his flashlight in every direction before pausing. " I don't understand… It-it was here." John panted. " Ten minutes ago. I saw it. A whole lot of graffiti!" He was now cold and frustrated as hell with a stuffy nose and numb cheeks.

" Somebody doesn't want me to see it," Sherlock said, shoving his flashlight into his pocket. He needs John to remember those numbers. He suddenly grabbed a hold of John's head, causing the blond man to squeeze his eyes shut.

" Sh-Sherlock, what are you…?" John stuttered in a strained voice.

" Sh! John, concentrate!" John opened his eyes and stared at him like he was absolutely crazy.

_What the HELL is he doing!?_ John thought to himself as his face scrunched up.

" I need you to concentrate! Close your eyes," Sherlock demanded.

" Wh-what? Why? Why!?" John's voice was rather squeaky with confusion as he shook his head. He had absolutely no understanding of what was going on. Sherlock grabbed John's arms. " What are you doing!?" He then… began to turn them in circles, a look of complete and utter seriousness on his face, looking the ex-military doctor directly in the eye. John's body was stiff and he leaned his head back as he unwillingly turned round and round.

It was at that moment Ana had walked up, freezing in her tracks at the sight of her friends. She blinked a few times, not knowing whether to take out her phone and videotape what was going on whilst laughing, or turn around and pretend she hadn't seen… whatever this was. She decided to sneakily film whatever was going on because, to be honest, it was hilarious. So, smirking, watched on.

" I need you to maximize your visual memory. Try to picture what you saw. Can you picture it?" Sherlock's tone was that of vital importance. This confused John all the more.

" Yeah," John muttered in a monotone.

" Can you remember it?"

" _Yes,_ definitely."

" Can you remember the pattern?" Sherlock inquired, an eyebrow quirking.

" Yes!"

" How _much_ can you remember it?"

" Well, don't worry-"

" Because the average human memory on visual matters is only sixty-two percent accurate!" Sherlock informed him strongly.

" Yeah, well, don't worry, I remember all of it." John assured him. He looked at him with a look of doubtful shock.

" Really?"

" Yeah, well, at least I _would_ if I can get to my pockets!" John exclaimed as he pulled away from Sherlock, ceasing the turning motion as he fought his arms back, fishing his camera from the depths of his pockets. " Took a photograph!"

" Bravo," Ana complimented, putting her phone away. She grinned at her friends who stared at her.

" H-how long have you been standing there?" John stuttered out.

" Long enough to know neither of you get dizzy quickly. So, the photograph?" She asked with a grin. John quickly turned on the camera and showed the two the photo. Sherlock scanned it over before John put it away.

" We need to go back to Baker Street, _now_. I want a copy of that printed immediately," Sherlock told them as he began to stroll off, leaving the other two to sigh and follow.

" Well, at least we'll be out of this bloody cold…" Ana muttered, rubbing her hands together again. " By the way, thank you, _John,_ for letting me know where to find you." She said the last bit loud enough for Sherlock to hear, knowing he wouldn't stop a case just to tell someone where he was.

" Sure thing, Ana. Maybe next time he'll pick up his phone so I don't have to hunt him down," John replied. Curiously, said consulting detective pulled out his phone and checked the screen. At least five missed calls and four texts… all from John. Well, as it would seem, he did have his phone on him… and he just didn't hear it ring.

_**Afterword:**__** GOSH. I am SO sorry for the late update! I blame these things: Sleep, Skyrim, Assassin's Creed III and The Hobbit (both the book and the film). Speaking of which, I've seen that movie twice with our lovely Martin Freeman, who I think did a brilliant job in it! Anyway, I'm sorry for the wicked late update and I hope this chapter somewhat made up for it!**_

_**REVIEW REPLIES!**_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I'm glad you've been enjoying the story! I hope this chapter was okay!_

**Lightan117:**_ I'm glad you're enjoying it and hope you stick around to read more! Thanks again!_

**Watersong77:**_ I hope your demand has been filled, but sorry it's so late XD I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks again!  
_**Kat7CA:**_ I'm glad you're enjoying it! Especially the original scenes, which I apologize the ones in this chapter are a bit short, and I'm glad to hear I'm writing Sherlock well! I can't wait to write in the guy who pisses Sherlock off… it'll be great fun! Thanks again!_

_**And thank you to those who have read and added this to story alert or favorites, it means so much to me!**_

_** So, my loyal readers, that is it for this chapter, and hopefully a great big gap won't be between updates… I unfortunately start school again on Wednesday. Fun. I start my rehearsals for my school's musical on that day as well; Yay for late nights. Anyway, thanks again for reading and hope you enjoyed! Drop a review to let me know what you thought! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary**_


	11. Ten: Sleep Now

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own Sherlock (the BBC show, any other show, movies or any of the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle) or any of the characters. I merely own my OC Ana._

Ten: Sleep Now...

Deciding to not walk back home in the icy cold, the trio caught a cab back home; Sherlock paying no attention to whatever conversation may have come up (he honestly didn't even register anything but his own thoughts... as usual). When they arrived at Baker Street, John and Ana ended up splitting the cost of the ride, seeing as Sherlock bounded out of the cab with John's camera in hand before the vehicle had even stopped. The consulting detective left the front door ajar and his footsteps could be heard pounding up to their flat.

As Ana rolled her eyes to the man's behavior, John brought up a thought that had been plaguing him since they'd left the train yard.

" You... you're not going to... you know... show that video of Sherlock and I to anyone, are you?" He inquired nervously. He ruffled his hair with a hand as he looked over at her, sincerely hoping her reply would be no. They climbed the few steps to the door and stepped into the warmth, leaving the cold air behind. Ana laughed and patted the pocket where her phone was.

" Depends. I'll keep it for blackmail... Should I ever need to do it to either of you. But, otherwise, I don't think I will," She told the doctor, smiling. He let out a relieved breath, shutting the door behind them. He then paused as he processed her words. He wasn't sure whether to relax or continue to be nervous over the possibility she would use it against them. John was sure _someone_ would insinuate something about the two men from that video... Hell, it would probably be Anderson or Sally who did it.

" Um... I'm... reassured? Should I be? I don't know if that _is_ reassuring..." He trailed off. Earning a laugh from Ana, the two shed their coats and headed upstairs, where Sherlock dutifully pinned up a printed copy of John's photograph.

Sherlock's brows pulled down in determination as he began to try and sort out all of the numbers... and what they meant.

" I say I make us some hot tea, fight the chill off," Ana suggested. She sniffed and rubbed at her red nose, almost emphasizing her point.

" Oh, that'd be nice..." John sighed in appreciation, rubbing his cold hands together. As Ana moved to go make said drink, Sherlock retreated to John's laptop and began to enlarge the numerals and print out copies of those. Once they were all printed, he scribbled numbers on the papers with black sharpie, muttering them under his breath when he pinned them up. Instead of just _one_ numeral spaced evenly between others, there were _two_ numerals close together before the next set was painted… pairs…

The night passed by with Sherlock muttering things to them, printing more photos, tossing them away and reprinting them again and with John and Ana drifting off every now and then, only being able to leave the room to go change when the morning light began to break over the rooftops of London.

John exhaustedly sat at the table, face resting in his hand as he began to drift off. The cold was wearing off and the promise of Ana's tea was probably the only thing keeping the doctor awake. He didn't understand how Sherlock could spend days on end without sleep and manage to _function_.

" Always in pairs, John, look," Sherlock informed as he stared at the pages that were now completely covering the mirror.

" Hmm?" John hummed, barely registering his friend's words. His eyes suddenly opened and he looked over to where Sherlock stood. He sucked in a breath and tried to wake himself up more, scrunching up his nose and forehead.

" Tea…" Ana mumbled, setting a cup in front of him. They were probably on their fourth pot of tea in the span of the night, hoping it would give them _some_ sort of energy to face the day.

" Oh… thanks," He whispered, picking up the steaming cup. He held it to his lips and took a gulp of the scalding tea. Ana, who looked equally as tired, sipped at her own cup, staring at Sherlock's back.

" Pairs?" She urged him to continue.

" Numbers come with partners…"

" God I need to sleep…" John muttered, looking over to the clock. Ana grunted in agreement, muttering,

" I'm lucky my boss likes me or I'd be fired by now… missed enough work…" She scrubbed a hand over her face and shook her head. As much as all of this truly interested her, she still needed to work or she couldn't pay rent or get groceries.

" Why did he paint it so near the tracks?" Sherlock mused, ignoring their comments.

" No idea," John grunted as he stretched in his seat.

Sherlock's fingers were poised on one of the photographs, eyes scanning over each number set. He felt no exhaustion or need to rest. His mind was turning and turning, keeping him thinking at every moment, every turn. Each problem he encountered has to be figured out; he couldn't just let something hang there unsolved. And at the current moment, why someone would leave a critical cipher in a train yard was making his brain work harder.

" Thousands of people pass by there everyday…"

" Just twenty minutes," John begged. Sherlock had a tendency to make him stay up and suffer as he worked through the night, having the need to tell someone everything he thought up.

A smile pulled onto Sherlock's face.

" Of course. _Of course!_ He wants information. He's trying to communicate with his people in the underworld. Whatever was stolen, he wants it back," He announced, voice getting slightly quieter as he looked over the photograph again. Ana stepped up beside him, sipping her tea as she stared at the photo as well. " And it's somewhere here… in a code." His voice became somewhat gruff as he muttered to himself, something that caused Ana to look up at him. She'd have to hit Liz for bringing up the damned question of if she'd want to date Sherlock or John every day she went to work… It made her think too hard about whether she liked either of them.

" It's too late to figure out a code…" Ana muttered, flopping into John's chair by the fireplace.

" Well, we can't crack it without Soo Lin Yao," He told her, tearing off pictures and keeping them in hand.

" Oh, good," John sighed as Sherlock, once more, headed to the door.

" Well, you two have fun, I actually have to _work_," Ana told them, causing the two to look back at her. " Don't give me those looks! I have every intention to help as best I can, but I need my pay check and if I don't get it, I can't pay my portion of the rent. So, if you find anything of vital importance, shoot me a text and I'll meet you wherever you may need me." Sherlock gave a short nod as he swept out with his jacket. John yawned as he clumsily pulled on his jacket to follow the dark haired man to the cab.

O

OOO

O

The two arrived back at the museum and once more hunted Andy down. They were once again in the room full of Chinese antiques, Sherlock speaking urgently.

" Two men who traveled back from China were murdered, and their killer left them messages in Hang Zhou numerals," He said.

" Soo Lin Yao's in danger," John added, making the entire conversation dummed down to one sentence. " That cipher, it was just the same pattern as the others, he means to kill her as well.

" Look, I've tried everywhere—friends, colleagues… I don't know where she's gone, I mean, she could be a thousand miles away," Andy told them, tiredly rubbing his face. It was that moment that Sherlock's eye had caught on a display case… one he'd been peering into the other day. A set of matching clay teapots sat inside, some of them glossed, the others dulled. That couldn't be right…

John noticed that his sightline wasn't on the young man any more and questioned,

" What are you looking at?"

" Tell me more about those teapots," He said to Andy, pointing with a gloved hand. He walked over, brow creasing as he looked back on his memories from the day before.

" The pots were her obsession. They need urgent work. If they dry out, then the clay can start to crumble. Apparently you just have to keep making tea in them," Andy explained as the consulting detective leaned down to stare critically at them all. John's brows creased at his behavior. As much as he loved learning about ancient teapots as the next man, they were after a killer.

" Yesterday only _one_ of those pots was shinning," Sherlock explained. " Now there are two." Straightening up, Sherlock pulled out his phone and began to send a text; apparently Ana would be having a short day at work.

O

OOO

O

" Ana, are you still _alive_?" Liz questioned, patting her friend on the cheek a few times. Ana jumped, eyes flying open from her position leaning against the bar. She groaned and ran a hand through her already tangled curls, shaking her head.

The lunch rush had ended and it was easing into evening, the sky turning a purplish pink. She'd yet to get any news from Sherlock or John and was trying to keep herself from collapsing onto the rickety wooden floors.

" No, I don't think I am… I had a long… interesting night," She sighed, leaning against the counter top, rubbing her eyes. Liz offered a smirk as she raised an arched eyebrow. She could have too much fun with this…

" Did Sherlock keep you awake?" Liz questioned with a slightly suggestive tone.

" Mm…" Ana hummed in agreement before her eyes snapped open again. " No! _Not_ like that, Liz! Mind out of the gutter _now!_ Uhg! I was helping him on a case!" She quickly got out. Liz let out a burst of laughter and rolled her eyes.

" You talk about him _so much_, you do know that, don't you? 'Sherlock' this and 'Sherlock' that! I think you fancy him."

" I do _not_ talk about him that often."

" You're gone from work a lot to help him…"

" It interests me, and we're with John too, so shut your trap or I'll shut it for you!" Ana threatened, feeling just that much more awake.

" Anything wrong?" Asked their boss, Mr. Rutland. They looked over to him as he smirked at them. He was a kind, tall man with graying auburn hair, who loved to joke around and spend time with the patrons of the pub. He was never one to get angry, and treated his workers like they were his own children.

" Just Liz being her usual self," Ana replied. Ana yawned for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes.

" Only because Ana's exhausted and falling asleep each time she stops walking," Liz teased.

" Hah! Better stop those late nights, Ana, I need you here, you know that," Mr. Rutland said with a kind smile, patting her on the back. She laughed and smiled just as her phone buzzed in her waist apron pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the message, which read as,

_**Soo Lin has been continuing her work at the museum in secret, most likely at night. Meet us at the museum at once.**_

_**~SH**_

Ana sighed as she stared at the words. She pursed her lips and scratched the side of her head as she wondered what to do. She could ask for an early evening off or she could just wait till her shift ended and not go to the museum… and that situation might get her into the direct path of Sherlock's fury, something she didn't wish to experience. The music playing of the speakers in the pub became slowly annoying and she groaned again.

" Who's it from?" Mr. Rutland asked curiously.

" One of my flat mates, Sherlock…"  
" Sherlock Holmes?" Ana looked up at him and nodded. He smiled. " Ah, just the perfect flat mate for our resident aspiring detective! Is that where you've been up to these past few days? Solving crimes?" Ana nodded again, slightly surprised. " Well, if he's calling you away, I'd say it's more important than falling asleep on my bar. Go on, you can pick up your pay check tomorrow." With a final smile and a pat on the pack, Mr. Rutland walked off, calling out to a friend across the room.

Liz and Ana shared a surprised look before Ana pulled off her apron and began to walk towards the back room.

" I want to meet this Sherlock guy, you know!" Liz called after her.

" We'll see if that happens!" Came Ana's reply.

O

OOO

O

The museum was dark and empty, the smallest sounds echoing around the spacious rooms. A shadow shifted along the walls towards the restoration rooms, not once pausing on its way. Foot steps delicately came from the figure the shadow belonged to, only stopping when none other than Soo Lin sat at her former desk, pouring tea into one of the pots. She poured the liquid into two clay cups and then poured some of it out, sloshing the tea inside the pot. It was damp with the liquid and it was creating the glaze that the other teapots had obtained.

" Fancy a biscuit with that?" Asked Sherlock's deep voice. Soo Lin gasped and spun around, the pot falling from her hands. Sherlock's gloved hands shot out and caught it, crouching slightly and the room fell into silence again as his ice blue eyes met hers. " Centuries old. Don't want to break that." Soo Lin gingerly took the pot pack as he stood straight again, switching the lights on her desk on. " Hello. Sherlock Holmes. I believe you can help my friends and I out with something."

Ana and John walked in, both taking spots behind Sherlock.

" I don't understand what-" Soo Lin began but Ana quickly interjected.

" I'm sure you must have heard about the two murders in the last few days?" She asked, eyeing the woman's now lit face. Soo Lin's gaze shot immediately to the only other woman in the room. Ana noted the fear that crossed through Soo Lin's eyes.

" Please… take a seat," Soo Lin said in a soft, almost timid voice. The three sat down around her desk, Ana taking a seat to Soo Lin's right.

" We've been investigating the murders and…" Ana paused to think over a few ways to say what she wanted to say. " We've… been to the crime scenes and also to the archives here at the museum… we saw that statue. It had the yellow markings on it." Soo Lin sucked in a breath and gave a single nod.

" You saw the cipher… You know he is coming for me," She told them.

" You've been clever to avoid him so far," Sherlock admitted.

" I had to finish, to finish _this_ work." She stared at the teapot and the cups. " It's only a matter of time. I know he will find me."

" Who is he? Have you met him before?" Sherlock inquired. Soo Lin's eyes snapped up to meet his.

" When I was a girl… living back in China." Her eyes moved back to the table. " I recognize his… _signature_."

" The cipher."

" Only _he_ would do this. Zhi Zhu," She said.

" Zhi Zhu?" John questioned.

" The Spider," Sherlock translated. Soo Lin silently lifted her right foot to rest on her left knee, unlacing her shoes and pulling them off with the heel of her sock, revealing a small black tattoo of a lotus with a circle surrounding it.

" You know this mark?" She asked specifically to Sherlock. With the slightest of nods he replied with,

" Yes. It's the mark of a Tong."  
" Tong?" Ana asked curiously, both she and John waiting for an explanation.

" Ancient crime syndicate, based in China," Sherlock explained.

Soo Lin stared down at her hands as she pulled her shoe back on.

" Every foot soldier bares the mark. Everyone who hauls for them…" She trailed off.

" Hauls?" John questioned. Soo Lin gave him a pointed look. " You mean… you were a smuggler?"

" I was fifteen. My parents were dead. I had no livelihood, no way of surviving day to day, except to work for the bosses."

" Who are they?" Sherlock asked in a deep tone.

" They are called…" She seemed to hesitate. " The Black Lotus. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds worth of drugs across the border into Hong Kong…" Her eyes began to tear up. " I managed to leave that life behind me. I came to England. They gave me a job… _here_… Everything was good. New life."

" Then he came looking for you." Sherlock seemed to know exactly what happened.

" Yes." She took a long moment to swallow back a sob as more tears filled her eyes. " I had hoped after five years maybe they would have forgotten me… But they never really let you leave. A small community like ours, they are never very far away." She had to wipe the tears off her cheeks before she could continue. " He came to my flat. He asked me to help him track down something that was stolen.

" And you have no idea what it was?" John asked.

" I refused to help."

" So… you knew him well when you were living back in China?" She nodded silently.

" Oh yes…" She said. " He's my brother." Everyone stared at her. " Two orphans. We had no choice. We could work for the Black Lotus or starve on the streets like beggars. My brother has become their puppet, in the power of the one they call Shan, Black Lotus General. I turned my brother away. He said I had betrayed him. Next day, I came to work and the cipher was waiting."

Sherlock stood and removed some of the print out copies of the photos from Baker Street out of his pockets and placed them on the lit table.

" Can you decipher these?" He asked her.

" These are numbers," She said, pointing to the yellow marks in the Shad Sanderson building.

" Yes, I know."

" Here, the line across the man's eyes, it's a Chinese number one."

" And _this_ one is fifteen. But what's the code?"

" All the smugglers know it. It's based upon a book," Soo Lin began to explain.

A loud thud resounded through the restoration room as the power was shut off, drenching them all in darkness.

" He's here… Zhi Zhu… He has found me," She whispered shutting her eyes tight. Sherlock spun around and ran towards the door, earning protests from John.

" No, no, Sherlock, _Sherlock, wait!_" John shouted just as Sherlock burst through the door. He spun to face both women. " Come here." He took Soo Lin's arm and led her around to another desk where they both crouched down, Ana soon coming to join them.

" Oh, today just gets _worse_," She muttered.

Sherlock bounded into an open lobby-like area with a lone statue feet away from the base of a stair case. As he caught his breath, Sherlock looked around frantically, hoping to catch sight of Soo Lin's brother. He failed to notice a shadow come to a halt on an upper landing of the stairs. When he did notice, it was just as the figure fired a gun, which he just managed to dodge by turning and diving behind the statue. Two more shots were fired.

From the restoration room, they heard the shots muffled by the walls that separated them. John and Ana shared a worried glance.

" I have to go and help him," John told them. " Bolt the door after me. John scrambled to his feet, making a run for the door. Ana jumped up after him, knowing he'd probably get himself killed or in trouble in some way. They ran out the door, evading gun shots by hiding behind a pillar. Two more shots.

Sherlock bolted up the stairs where the shooter had dashed off to, following the footsteps into another exhibit displaying skulls. Ancient skulls and bones. Another shot echoed out, causing him to skid onto his knees on the floor, hiding behind a display case. Another shot.

" Careful!" Sherlock shouted. _BANG._ " Some of those skulls are over two hundred thousand years old! Have a bit of _respect!_" He caught his breath and not another shot was fired. " Thank you." In fact… there was no sound at all. Peering around from his hiding place, the shooter was gone.

John had gone on to search the halls carefully, Ana going in an opposite direction only to feel a twinge of guilt for leaving the terrified woman alone. She spun on her heel and began sprinting back towards the restoration room. Only a hall away was when a solitary gun shot rang out with a tone of finality.

" Oh dear God, no," Ana muttered when the sound had stopped her in her tracks. Then, after the initial horror sank in, she continued to run, heart leaping up into her throat.

John, who had also been making his way towards the restoration room as well, burst through the doors, cautiously looking around for the shooter. He was panting from the run he'd made and his eyes widened in horror when he saw Soo Lin's hand sprawled out across her desk, a origami black lotus in her palm. Ana a few feet away, staring at the gunshot wound that had killed Soo Lin. John stood beside her and she shook her head.

" I shouldn't have left…" She muttered, putting her hands to her head. " I shouldn't have left…" John rubbed her shoulder and turned her around to face the door, saying,

" It's not your fault… He would have killed you had you been here… come on… we need to find Sherlock and call Dimmock."

_**Afterword:**__** First off, these updates are so irregular I'm SO SORRY. Life has been hectic and less then kind to me for a bit and I hope that you can forgive me! Gah! Well, this one was longer than the last few I've written, so I hope it sort of makes up for it!**_

_**REVIEW REPLIES!**_

**grapejuice101:**_ Thanks for the reply and the support! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thanks again!_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I'm glad you liked it! Sorry about the late update, hope the chapter was okay! Thanks again!_

**Guest(s):**_ Thanks for the reviews! They mean a lot! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks again!_

**And thank you to those who have read and added this to their favorites and story alerts! It means a lot! I like to know I have people who like to read my writing!**

_** Well, that's it for THIS chapter, hopefully I can get the next one up soon, and I say that every time, sorry XD Thanks again you guys!**_

_**~Mary**_


	12. Eleven: Books And Tea

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own Sherlock (BBC show, movies, etc.) or any of the characters. I only own my OC Ana._

_**Foreword: This chapter is respectfully dedicated to my new editor, scottishblackbird, an amazing friend of mine who catches my grammar mistakes XD Thanks again, Ellie, you're the best!**_

Eleven: Books And Tea

The cab ride to Scotland Yard was uncomfortably quiet. Ana had a look of guilt on her face similar to the one that her father would wear when he'd lose someone on a case. She kept her eyes clamped shut and head bowed, staying as still as possible between the two men at her sides. John was honestly worried she was going to go into shock; he resolved to himself to check if she actually was once everything settled down for the night. Sherlock could honestly pay less attention to the practically shaking woman beside him. He was still sorting out the whole shooter situation, watching as buildings sped past.

When the familiar building of Scotland Yard appeared in front of them, they tossed the cabbie some money and got out into the cold night air. Inside they marched up to Dimmock's desk.

" What do you three want now?" Dimmock sighed to them, arching a brow. The trio stared at him in mild shock.

" That's _all_ you have to say about this?" Ana asked. " A woman was just _murdered_ and all you have to say is asking us what we want?" Her voice was becoming increasingly peeved, her jaw clenching severely.

" Look, I'm not going to sit here at my desk and be shouted at by some would-be-cop, all right? It's been a long day and I'd appreciate some respect," He deadpanned, staring at Ana. She glared at him as her fists clenched.

" Ana—" John started, reaching for her arm.

" No! I'll meet you back at the flat, alright?" She muttered before she spun around and marched for the elevator.

If there was one thing Ana could remember from her childhood, it was the nights when her parents would come home and look exactly how she felt… how on those nights she couldn't understand why they felt so bad. That was mostly because they never told her what they were so down about, but as she got older and saw news reports, she could always guess. If she _had_ been in that room with Soo Lin, she could have at least attempted to stop the shooter. Of course, John was right; she would have been killed too.

Ana, once back at Baker Street, shed her work clothes and pulled on relaxed clothes before she started a fire in the fireplace. She dropped into one of the chairs, which happened to be Sherlock's, and sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes. As her head buzzed with thoughts of Soo Lin, the shooter and the case, she slowly found herself drifting off to sleep in Sherlock's seat, curled up in a ball.

O

OOO

O

" She's in my seat."

Those were the first words that passed through Sherlock's lips when he spotted Ana asleep in his chair. It was _his_ seat for a reason, and he never really cared for many other people to sit in it. Once finished tossing all his outerwear onto the couch, he strode over to the chair in question and put his hand heavily on Ana's shoulder, about to wake her up.

" Sherlock, leave her be," John said quietly, hanging up his own coat. " She's had a long night; a very long complicated night. Just let her sleep."

Ana's head turned and fell to rest on the consulting detective's hand, causing him to slowly remove it. Turning to head to his room with a resigned sigh, John stopped him by pointing to the back of his own chair.

" At least put the blanket on her."

He shot the army doctor a look as he grabbed the throw blanket and draped it over Ana's shoulders. Her furrowed brow didn't ease up when the blanket covered her; she just curled up tighter, hiding her face in the fabric.

As Sherlock began explaining to John everything that suddenly came to light to him what with finding out that all the victims were part of the Black Lotus, Ana sighed in her sleep, tugging the blankets tighter around her shoulders.

O

OOO

O

" Sorry. Are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?" Asked Mrs. Hudson, accompanied to a knock on the flat's door. Ana's eyes slowly opened and she sat up, rubbing her eyes, slowly directing her attention to the older woman in the doorway.

" What?" Came Sherlock's deep voice.

" A young man's outside with crates of books."

" Books? Since when would Sherlock donate books to charity?" Ana grumbled as she stood, detangling herself from the blankets. The two men looked over at her.

" Tell them to bring them up," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson. John walked over to Ana and helped her fold the blanket.

" How are you feeling?" He asked with friendly concern. She smiled slightly and shrugged.

" Better now. I suppose its part of the job, I should get used to it, just like my parents somehow did. Sorry about stealing your chair, Sherlock." Ana walked towards the kitchen to grab a snack and some water, sending a glance to the man she'd spoken to. He merely grumbled out a response that was unintelligible to anyone as police officers began to bring up crate upon crate of books. " Now, anyone care to tell me why we're receiving books?"

" The code, the cipher—the numbers are references," Sherlock explained as yet another crate was brought up with the name 'Lukis' scrawled on its side. John crossed his arms and his brows furrowed.

" To books?" He asked, still attempting to piece the concept together himself.

" To specific pages and specific _words_ on those pages."

" Right, so, fifteen and one, that means…" John began to say, nodding in understanding.

" Turn to page number fifteen and it's the first word you read," Sherlock confirmed.

" So what's the message?" John asked.

" Depends on the book. That's the cunning of the _book code._ It has to be one they both own…" Sherlock mused, staring at the crates from Van Coon's apartment and Lukis'. Ana stared at the mass of black crates now in the living room.

" That is a _hell_ of a lot of books…" She muttered, sitting at the cluttered kitchen table. "And you want us to go through _all _of these crates looking for a book the two men owned?"

" Precisely."

" This shouldn't take too long, should it?" John asked sarcastically as the two men began to open crates and pull books out. Just as they began to do such, Dimmock walked in, holding up an evidence bag.

" We found _these_ at the museum. Is this your writing?" He asked accusingly, showing it to John. John sighed from his seat and nodded.

" Um, we hoped Soo Lin could decipher it for us," He told him.

" Tough." He looked around. " Anything else I can do?"

" Get out of our flat, perhaps?" Ana asked, sending a glare at the man. He shot it right back at her and she resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. She'd seen enough of the man for one night. Ana turned back to the food on the plate in front of her as Dimmock said,

" To _assist you_, I mean?"

" Some silence right now would be marvelous," Sherlock informed in a deadpan voice, creating a pile of books. Dimmock gave a stiff nod and slowly left, not bothering to shut the door. Sherlock lifted a pile of book pairs from each man's apartment and walked over to Ana, holding the pile out to her. She looked up at him and arched a brow.

" Sherlock, _you _may not need to eat during a case but I do. If I don't I'll just collapse," She told him, lifting a fork to her mouth. She suddenly found both her fork and plate gone, replaced by a pile of books. Sherlock tossed the food, plate, fork and all, into the trash and walked back out. She clenched her jaw and gave a stiff nod. Sighing, she snatched up some scrap paper and a pen, beginning to jot down all of the words from the cipher.

It was going to be a long night.

O

OOO

O

By morning, the trio looked disheveled. Sherlock's coat was slung over his chair and the sleeves of his purple button down had been rolled up to his elbows. The fabric was wrinkled and the curls of his hair were tangled from his hand constantly running through them. John looked about ready to pass out on the pile of books in front of him, his tired blue eyes slowly closing. Once again, Sherlock had managed to keep him up through the night with his crazy plans… Ana, on the other hand, was actually asleep, a pile of six or so books acting as a pillow. Her hair fell in tangled strands around her face and one hand still held her pen while the other hugged the book pile. Her sweater had ended up on the living room floor after she'd tossed it at Sherlock when he'd told her that she wasn't working fast enough.

Outside in the grey London morning, church bells chimed, signaling the hour at the exact moment John's watch started to beep. Confused, he looked down at his watch and it hit him. Work. He was going to be late for work. He sighed into his hands and shook his head.

" Sherlock, I swear to God you'll be the death of me one day…" John almost growled as he pulled himself to his feet. Sherlock didn't register the comment as his flatmate left to get dressed for the day, he merely pulled out some more books, staring at the titles. It was the moment John grabbed his coat that Sherlock's brows pulled together and he looked at him.

" Where are you going?" He asked.

" Work, Sherlock, _work_. I'm already going to be late and if I'm lucky, I won't pass out in the cab on the way there! Thank you for keeping us up till seven in the morning, it was _very_ generous," John spat before marching out down the stairs, the front door slamming behind him.

Sherlock sighed and turned to see Ana's sleeping figure in the kitchen. He walked into the kitchen and stared down at her. She seemed to be about to fall off the edge of her chair, her legs awkwardly bent in the position she'd been sitting in when she'd passed out. Had John been there, he would have told Sherlock to let her keep sleeping, like the night prior when she'd been asleep in his chair. However, now that the doctor was gone and Sherlock could use all the help he could get, he roughly shook her shoulder, causing her to jolt away. Blue eyes snapping open, she sat up and groaned. Her cheek was red from where it had pressed against the book covers and Sherlock rolled his eyes at how confused she looked.

" Ana, John's left. I still need your help with the books; we haven't found _one book_ that both men have that make sense for the cipher," Sherlock said. " Therefore, we should try and find a book that _everyone_ owns, something that is easy for someone to get their hands on."

" Great, I'll get right on that, let me just take a shower first, alright? Try looking in a Bible first or something, that's a good start…" She muttered as she stood. She was about to leave the kitchen but ran into Sherlock's chest, which made her look up at him. She stared at him a moment and pointed to the top few buttons on his shirt. " I'm glad you keep those undone, it looks better." She took his arms and pushed him to the side so she could move past, yawning as she went.

Sherlock watched her leave with a confused look on his face. He looked down at the shirt buttons and shook his head, figuring she had to be delirious when she woke up in the morning.

O

OOO

O

" I've made tea," Ana told Sherlock, placing two mugs on the living room table. Sherlock only acknowledged her words by a simple nod of the head. She rolled her eyes and wiped away a bead of cold water that was running down her neck from her damp hairline. " You know, Sherlock, there is _nothing_ wrong with just taking a break and getting something to drink or eat. Or even sleep; it's probably much healthier. You've been awake since, what, three in the morning _yesterday?_"

" I've worked with my methods for years and they have _always_ worked, Ana. I'm perfectly healthy," Sherlock deadpanned, jumping onto the arm of his chair to grab a book. Ana sighed and sipped at her tea before saying,

" Alright, I don't suppose I could argue against you. It's usually useless. But there's tea for you here anyway. Same with the toast on the kitchen table," Ana told him before setting on looking through some more books. Sherlock slowly turned his head to stare at the mug on the table, which was lit by a small ray of sunlight. The steam that rose off the top of the hot liquid curled into the air before slowly dissipating, and from the smell of it, it was breakfast tea, something both she and John bought each time they went to the store.

He had to admit that he always thought something was a tad odd since she'd moved in. She would _always_ make him tea or some sort of breakfast even though she knew he probably wouldn't eat it. She was always concerned if he was about to go do something stupid and, on occasion, reprimand him for doing or saying something she considered wrong. John would probably say she cared for him, that she had a friendly concern about him at all times. His eyes slid from the mug to Ana, who sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting through books. She met his eye and smiled a bit before turning back to work. There was still something about her that interested him and he _still_ couldn't place it.

So, ignoring the mug on the table, he got right back to work.

O

OOO

O

" Fifteen, entry one…"

Dictionary: Add.

Bible: I.

Sherlock ruffled his hair as he dropped both books. He and Ana had been perusing _their_ bookshelves for common books. They hadn't found anything that worked yet, all of it became a random jumble of words that created odd sentences with no direction. Ana had become much more agreeable as the day wore on, Sherlock had noticed. She stayed quiet since she knew he liked to work in said conditions, and only spoke when she thought she'd had something. The two, however, were starting to become admittedly stir-crazy. They'd opened the windows at one point before getting up just to shut them again and then found they couldn't sit or stand still for more than a few minutes.

" My _God, _I'm going insane…" Ana muttered as she tugged the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows.

Not too much later, John walked in through the kitchen to see the two still holed up in the flat, looking antsy as hell.

" I need some air, we're going out tonight," Sherlock announced, placing his hands on his hips and staring out the window.

" Actually, I've, uh… Got a date," John told them with a pleased smile gracing his lips. Ana looked over at him and grinned.

" That's great, John! Oh, let me guess, it's that Sarah from the surgery isn't it?" Ana asked, a bit of cheek coming into her tone. Before John could reply with a 'yes,' Sherlock asked,

" _What?_" His brows were furrowed and he looked confused at John's sentence. The doctor sighed and rolled his eyes and figured he'd have to explain.

" It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun," He said slowly as if he were explaining something to a child, traces of an amused smile on his face. There was a pause as Sherlock processed his friend's words. Did he not _just_ say that?

" That's what _I_ was suggesting."

" No, it wasn't. Well, at least I hope not," John replied, putting his hands in his pockets. Sherlock's eyebrow twitched slightly as he sighed.

" Where are you taking her?" He inquired, gears turning in his head.

" Uh, cinema."

" Dull, boring, predictable," Sherlock told him. He walked around the mountain of crates to stop in front of John, handing him a scrap of paper produced from his pocket. " Why don't you try this? In London for one night only." It was the corner of the ad for the Chinese circus that was in town. Sherlock had a plan, now all he had to do was convince John, who was looking at Ana with an almost disbelieving look on his face. Sherlock, _Sherlock Holmes_ was commenting on his love life and trying to give _advice_. The blond man chuckled and shook his head as he stared at the crumpled up ad.

" _Thanks_, but I don't come to you for dating advice." He held the torn scrap between two fingers to give back to Sherlock. The darker haired man slyly took it and looked down at the phone number before smirking slightly.

" As I said before, the cinema is dull and predictable. Wouldn't you like to show whomever you're taking out tonight that you're an…" He paused and thought for a moment. " _Interesting_ man? Besides, if you take her to this, I'll pay for you. You could use a night off."

Ana stared at the consulting detective in minor shock. She figured that he could be up to something, but then again, maybe he was actually being fully, _truly_, genuine. John stared at him for a moment and arched a brow.

" _You'll_ pay for the tickets?"

" Of course. You can use my card. I'm sure I can figure out something I can do tonight. Perhaps a trip to the library again, see if I can find some more… common books to look for," Sherlock pondered, looking around at how his flat now looked like a library. John, smiling a bit nodded and looked back down at the ad. Maybe, just maybe, this could work…

O

OOO

O

Ana walked began to walk back up to the flat after going for a walk to get some fresh air. She had to get to work in an half an hour and she planned on actually getting there early this time. However, the moment she walked into the living room to put down her stuff Sherlock, from his chair, announced,

" You aren't going to work tonight." Freezing, she looked over at him.

" I'm sorry, what?" She asked in confusion, slowly draping her coat over the couch arm. Sherlock stood and walked around the crates to stand in front of her.

" You are not going to work tonight. I called your employer and informed him of your absence tonight. He is a very nice man, he said not to worry about it," Sherlock reiterated, holding out _her_ phone, which he'd snatched from her coat before she left. Ana slowly took it and arched a brow as she looked up at him.

" And _why _am I not going to work tonight?" She asked cautiously.

" We're going on a date."

_**Afterword:**__** Am I evil for leaving it here? Yes. Am I horrible for not updating as often as I'd like? Another yes. Don't kill me. *hides behind computer* I lost some inspiration for this story for a while; I guess I just kind of felt that I wasn't writing Ana in well enough so I kinda just… fell behind in writing it. Anyway, a friend of mine (Ellie) has been helping me with ideas and is doing a great job pushing me to update. I will rely on her here on out to get me to update regularly!**_

_**REVIEW REPLIEEESSS!**_

**FreeSpiritSeeker:**_ She will, indeed, meet Sherlock, and yes… it will be interesting! XD Anyway, thanks for the review, hope you enjoyed!_

**Gwilwillith:**_ I'm glad you enjoyed and I hope you liked this one! Thanks again!_

**scottishblackbird: **_And we both know how hard it is to attempt to write chapters with all the dress rehearsals and performances and auditions in these next few weeks. Yay for another show tonight XD Anyway, thank you so much for the support and the review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

_**And thank you to those who have favorited and added this story to their story alert's—it means a lot to me!**_

_** Well, that's it… FOR NOW. Hope you stick around to find out what happens next! Thanks again you guys!**_

_**~Mary**_


	13. Twelve: The 'Date'

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own Sherlock (the show, any of the movies, books etc.) or any of the characters, with belong to A.C. Doyle. I only own my OC Ana._

Twelve: The 'Date'

" I... I'm sorry, _what?_" Ana stuttered out, eyes wide. Sherlock arched a brow and clasped his hands behind his back. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sherlock Holmes wanted to go on a _date_ with her? She was about to honestly have a panic attack; she never would have thought this would happen... in fact, she thought he was going insane.

" You and I are going on a date, I would have thought you'd have heard me the first time around," he said in a flat voice. Her eyes were wide and she could only stare at him, mouthing random words.

" A _date?_"

" Yes, a date. As John explained before, it is when two people who like each other go out and have fun, I believe."

Ana fervently shook her head, holding up a finger to make him stop talking. She had to stop his train of thought before he got the term date wrongly defined in his head.

" No, no... Sherlock, no. What John meant by that was two people who _romantically_ like each other! And you aren't suggesting that, are you?" Ana asked, a slight shake in her voice. Sherlock's brows furrowed.

" Absolutely not."

" Oh, thank God," she muttered, swiping hair out of her face with a relieved sigh.

" We're still going out, though," Sherlock replied. She gave him a wary look and leaned against the doorframe. She had no idea what he was on about at the moment, and she wasn't sure how worried she should be. " Before you ask any more useless or redundant questions, go change. I've already picked something out for you."

" You what? Okay, never mind, I don't think I want to ask..."

O

OOO

O

" Sherlock, you _did not_ have to go through all of my room just to find a _dress!_" Ana announced as she stepped back into the living room, arms crossed. Just as Sherlock was about to respond she continued, saying, " And you _did not_ have to choose my _underwear!_"

Sherlock gave her an odd look as he pulled on his coat and gloves. She continued to stare at him as she tugged on her own jacket, a blush rising to her face. He didn't quite understand _why_ she was blushing but he finally formed his response.

" Well of course I did. I took it upon myself to choose your clothes. Underwear is, in fact clothing, and thus are part of the outfit. Now, come on, we need to leave before John gets too far ahead," he said as he walked out of the door. Ana practically glared at his back as she jogged to follow him down the steps.

" I knew you were up to _something!_ You cannot ruin John's date! He deserves some down time, Sherlock." He either didn't register her comment or didn't feel like replying, for he kept walking down the street, coat fluttering out behind his long legs. " Sherlock!"

" Does it not seem odd to you that this _Chinese_ circus is in the city for one night only?" He questioned. She shot him a withering look, tightening her tan coat over her dress, which fell just below her knees and had red flowers scattered over it.

" Does it not bother you that you're ruining John's chance at a relationship?" She countered, hoping to get an answer out of him. He once again ignored her.

" This _has_ to have something to do with the Black Lotus; it just _has_ to be! An assassin who can climb walls with _amazing_ dexterity, what better place to hide someone of that talent then in a circus..."

" Slow down, would you?" Ana jogged forward to try and catch up with him, which wasn't too easy in the red heels that had been chosen to match her outfit. Although what the consulting detective had chosen her to wear was slightly impractical in the cold weather, she had to admit that it all did match, something no guy she'd ever known could do. " But... let me get this straight. You have brought me along to crash John's date?"

" Put in those simple terms, yes," Sherlock deadpanned, glancing down at her. She was clearly cold; the dress wasn't the warmest thing to wear on a cool London night, and she tried to keep herself warm by wrapping her arms around herself. He slightly wondered if he should have chosen something warmer for her to wear, but soon rid all such thoughts and focused on the circus they were about to attend.

As they arrived at the small almost hidden theatre, they walked under a string of red Chinese lanterns, Sherlock muttering something about hoping John hadn't gotten his tickets yet. He grabbed Ana's arm so she'd walk faster, which basically meant she was running on her toes, and they found John and a woman with red-brown hair standing at the box-office.

" Actually... I have _four_ in that name," Said a young man behind the desk. John gave him an odd look, hand frozen on his open wallet.

" No... I don't think so, we only booked _two_," John said with an assured tone.

" Then I phoned back and got two for Ana and I as well," Sherlock said, announcing their presence as they stepped up behind the couple. He met Sarah's eyes and gave a tiny smirk. " I'm Sherlock."

" Uh... Hi," Sarah said with a confused tone.

" Hello." Sherlock then turned on his heel and walked towards a set of stairs. After an awkward pause, Ana stepped forward and took the credit card from John's hand and handed it to the young man.

" I'm sorry about this," She whispered to John. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

" No, no... It is not your fault in the least bit... It's just Sherlock being Sherlock..."

John marched ahead to speak with Sherlock and Ana stayed behind to be with Sarah.

" So, I'm Ana, it's really nice to meet you. I'm actually really sorry about interrupting your date," Ana apologized, shaking Sarah's hand. She gave her a kind smile, shaking her offered hand.

" It's quite alright, I assure you. Is this Sherlock fellow your boyfriend, then?"

" What? Oh, no! No, no, no... no, we're flatmates; I moved in with him and John a little while back. I was really had no say in coming here," She replied with a laugh, running a hand through her wind-tangled hair. Sarah laughed quietly, fingering her ticket as they stepped into the crowd.

" Well, what better place to spend an evening than at the circus? I haven't been in _years_," Sarah told her as they began to climb the cramped carpeted stairs.

" I cannot remember the last time I went to one actually..." Ana admitted in a quiet voice, thinking it over. They both spotted the two men who were arguing on the side of the steps, walking up just as John practically yelled,

" While I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" Noticing the aforementioned woman's presence he awkwardly said, " Hey!" Sherlock then began to jog up the steps, Ana close to follow. She grabbed his coat sleeve and made him slow down.

" You know, you could have just showed up here and _not_ bothered John," She pointed out in a hushed tone.

" I thought maybe he'd help, but he did point out you could be used as a good set of second eyes," Sherlock admitted. Ana sighed and rubbed her eyes, draping her coat over her bare arm.

The four soon found themselves standing in a small auditorium area without seats. A circle was created on the floor out of lit white candles, which flickered with every movement someone made. The lights were dim and the curtain on the stage was shut, which must have meant it was going to be used as a changing area for the performers.

" You said 'circus' this is _not_ a circus; look at the size of this crowd," John muttered to Sherlock, who stood with his back to John's. " Sherlock, this is... _Art._"

" This is _not_ their day job."

" Oh, yes, I forgot, this is a gang of _international smugglers_," John whispered in reply. Ana sighed and rubbed her eyes. She could tell she'd get a headache before the night would end... However, any chance for the two men to keep arguing was cut off when a performer began to gently tap against a finger-drum. John's gaze turned back towards Sherlock, who gave him a sort of 'pay attention' look.

A woman in a pink silk brocade dress stepped into the center of the circle of candles. Her face was painted white and an elaborate headdress sat atop her head. Raising a hand slowly, the finger-drummer stopped and larger ones began to be struck. The woman lowered her hand and stepped over to a bulky object covered in a blanket. She pulled it back to reveal an elaborate crossbow. The woman then pulled out an oversized arrow with a fluffy white feather on the end of it. She held it out for the audience to observe before placing it in the crossbow. As John glanced back at Sarah, the woman removed a feather pin from her headdress and lightly placed it into a metal bowl on the back of the crossbow... and it fired the arrow in a flash, lodging it in an elaborately carved wooden board.

Sarah jumped at the sudden sound of its impact, laughing as her heart raced. The crowd applauded as a man entered the circle, face disguised by a mask. He held out both arms and turned to the side, backing up towards the board. Two other men then began to chain the masked man to the board.

" Classic Chinese escapology act," Sherlock whispered to his three companions. They all turned slightly to look at him, which urged him to go on. " The crossbow is on a delicate spring. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires." They gave a nod as they returned to looking at the woman, who was setting another arrow into the crossbow. The man was finally chained against the board, unable to pull away. A small crash came from a gong, which made Sarah jump, holding onto John's arm. The two smiled and laughed a bit, soon refocusing their attention to what was happening in front of them. It was when the woman pulled out a dagger they noticed the sandbag and a weight hanging over the metal bowl.

" She splits the sandbag, the sand pours out... Gradually the weight lowers into the bowl," Sherlock whispered again, eyeing the weight. Ana's eyebrows rose.

" I'd hate to be him..." She muttered, shifting her weight on her feet.

Just as Sherlock said, the woman split the bottom of the sandbag and sand began to spill out. They all watched as the weight began to lower and the masked man yelled out as he strained against the chains. Ana wouldn't lie, she was nervous about all this. She placed a hand on her cheek as she watched, eyes flicking between the cross bow and the man. She shifted a step towards Sherlock and focused more on the man than the weight. He got his hands free and was working on trying to remove the chain from around his neck... the weight was inches away from dropping into the bowl...

The arrow whizzed through the air and lodged into the board _just_ as the masked man freed himself and dropped to the floor.

" Oh, thank God..." Sarah sighed with relief.

" My God..." John muttered as they all began to clap. He turned to look behind him, to look at Sherlock, but found both the consulting detective and the waitress gone.

It had been just before the second arrow had been fired that Sherlock had pulled Ana away, his gloved hand on her bare upper arm. She'd left her coat by the stairs, not feeling like dragging it around with her, and she wished she would have left her shoes as well... why did she even _buy_ those shoes? They were hell to walk in...

They arrived backstage as the applauding stopped. The lights were off and no one was in sight. Racks of costumes were to the side as well as makeup tables with masks sitting on them. Sherlock bent over and checked for any feet lurking in corners... when he found none, he stood up straight and eyed a red mask with chainmail like armor paired with it, knowing it could be a potential hiding spot. However, it was on a mannequin that had no legs, so there was no worry there. In the meantime, Ana was gently searching the makeup tables; she was looking for scraps of paper or letters, anything really. She pushed hair out of her face and leaned over a rather large table, reaching for an envelope that was teetering on the edge.

Sherlock paused and looked through a slight part in the curtains, watching as a man-the Chinese Spider-swung around acrobatically on two long flowing lengths of red silk. The movements were practiced and smooth as if the man were absolutely born to do it... it was Soo Lin's brother.

" Well, well..." Sherlock muttered as the light shone through the curtains onto his pale face. Sherlock heard footsteps and a closing door. Someone was coming. He lunged forward and wrapped both arms around Ana's waist, which made her squeak quietly. He yanked her through a clothing rack, hiding them both behind the items that hung on it. She stared up at Sherlock with a questioning look, his hands still on her hips, a slight blush forming on her face. He released her and held a finger to his lips, telling her to be silent. The woman in the pink silken dress walked in and over to her dressing table, freezing as Sherlock hit some of the clothes, causing the hangers to squeal.

Sherlock flinched and sucked in a breath. The woman began to move again, which caused him to pull Ana down more, both ducking as the woman's footsteps left the room. Sherlock's brows suddenly furrowed as the door clicked shut.

" I think she's gone," Ana whispered. Sherlock didn't listen though. He'd spotted a black gym bag, which contained spray paint cans. _Yellow_ spray paint cans. He lifted one up, making Ana look down. She arched a brow and looked at him. " Is that...?"

" Found you..." He whispered, jumping back through the clothes, making Ana stumble after him, shoes catching on the bottom of the rack. He immediately walked over to a nearby mirror and crouched slightly, Ana following suit. He sprayed a line of yellow paint across it, observing its consistency and the color. It was the _exact_ paint used on all the other cyphers...

The sound of groaning leather and the slight movement in the mirror made the duo looked up. In the mirror they saw the mask and armor they'd checked earlier was now occupied... and moving _directly_ towards them.

_**Afterword:**__** So, it wasn't a REAL date... but it was fun to write the confusion on the first bit XD Again, I thank my editor, Ellie (Scottishblackbird) who did what editors do and edited. And kept me motivated to writing this! **_

_**AND HAH! ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! XD**_

_** Don't worry, more chapters to come!**_

_**REVIEW REPLEIS!**_

**Gwilwillith:**_ Glad you liked it! And, yes, it was evil XD Hope you enjoyed this chapter and cliffhanger as well... thanks again!_

**osnapitzlilly:**_ Hope you enjoyed the chapter and the story so far! Thanks again!_

**FreeSpiritSeeker:**_ Here is more! Hope you liked it! Thanks again!_

**The Yoshinator: **_I am indeed continuing! Hope you enjoyed and glad you've liked it thus far! Thanks again!_

**Watersong77:**_ Aaaaaaaand another cliffhanger. I am evil, I admit it XD But I hope you've been enjoying regardless! Thanks again!_

**Guest:**_ I won't give this up, I have too many plot ideas in my head! I promise to keep writing! Hope you enjoyed and thanks again!_

_**And thank you to those who have been reading and adding this to their favorites or their story alerts. It means a lot to me! **_

_** So, there you have it! Hope you stick around and read more and thank you all for being such loyal and awesome reviewers! Like all my story, if you have any suggestions for future plot points and what not, feel free to let me know! Thanks again you guys!**_

_**~Mary **_


	14. Thirteen: Possibly The Worst Night Ever

_**Disclaimer:**__** I do not own Sherlock (the show, any film or any of the original works) or any of the characters; I only own my OC Ana.**_

**Foreword: Sorry for the late update! My Shakespeare play has taken over every aspect of my life. It literally dictates when I can eat and when I can sleep. But, once more, a shout-out to ****scottishblackbird**** who edited this again for me! ON WARDS TO THE ACTION! **

Thirteen: Possibly The Worst Night Ever

The sound of groaning leather and the slight movement in the mirror made the duo looked up. In the mirror they saw the mask and armor they'd checked earlier was now occupied... and moving directly towards them.

The warrior lunged forward and slashed a curved sword at Sherlock, who jumped backwards and out of the way. Now with the dark haired man attempting to gain his balance, the masked man lunged at Ana, who scrambled to the side, barely avoiding contact with the sword; the fleeting thought of maybe learning self defense passed through her mind, but with the deadly warrior advancing on her again, the time to contemplate that choice wasn't exactly there.

Sherlock grabbed fistfulls of the man's costume and yanked him backwards, the two hitting the curtains, causing the bronze satin to billow around them. He should have known that these particular people wouldn't leave anything unguarded; it was practically in their nature to be secretive and protective. Sherlock blocked a hit from the sword with the spray paint can, using the force to push the blade away. The warrior made to stab the detective, but was unable to land a blow; Sherlock ducked down and elbowed the man in the gut. Recovering quickly, the warrior returned the exact same blow.

" Always at the most inconvenient of times..." Ana muttered. Every time they seemed to get a lead, they were immediately attacked. Such is the life of living with Sherlock, she supposed...

However, not wanting to be the 'damsel-in-distress' type of girl, she grabbed a spare costume, looped it around both hands and rushed their attacker. The cloth flew over the top of the warriors head and wrapped around his neck; Ana then yanked backwards, working just enough to give Sherlock some time to think of a counter attack. Unfortunately, what with the warrior being trained and stronger than the woman behind him, he thrust the hilt of his sword backwards and hit her in the stomach. It would have been obvious to say it hurt like Hell, but it was true; Ana grunted and stumbled back, holding her midsection - which would probably bruise. A foot swept underneath her own and she fell to the floor, knocking her head against the stage.

The warrior turned his attacks back on Sherlock, pushing him into the curtains again, hand wrapped around his scarf-clad neck. The sword clattered the ground as his other hand joined the first. Sherlock gripped the spray paint can tight and he lifted it, spraying the contents into the eyeholes of the mask. The man released him and Sherlock hurled him to the ground, only to have the warrior swing his legs upwards to give him momentum to kip-up into a crouch. That proved enough of a distraction for him to be able to land a solid kick to Sherlock's chest, sending him straight through the curtains.

Sherlock flew off the stage and thudded to the floor in front of the audience. He looked up dazed to see the warrior with a hand tightly around Ana's neck, throwing her back to the ground. From her newfound spot below the attacker, Ana lifted a foot and kicked him in the stomach with her heel, sending him off the edge of the stage.

John, after seeing Sherlock fly through the curtains, rushed forward as the warrior lifted a sword to impale his flatmate. The ex-military doctor tackled him enough to send him a few feet back, but was shoved away with the use of the warrior's elbow. Soo Lin's brother made a run for it as Sarah rushed forward with a hefty piece of wood and knocked the warrior over the head. Two more hits and he was on the ground, unconscious. Sherlock sat up quickly and whipped off the man's shoe-sure enough, on his heel, was the mark of the Black Lotus. He stood and ran to the stage, helping Ana slide off, taking her hand as the four began to run.

" Come on, let's go!"

The four blended into the panicked crowd outside the theatre, the cold air pinching at their skin.

" What just happened?" asked Sarah in shock.

" Look, I'm really sorry about this," John told her, taking her shoulders in his hands.

" Please, save the idle chit-chat for later, we have to hail a cab." Sherlock sent John a look as he spoke and rushed for the street. John looked at Ana with a pleading look, but she only shook her head in response, still holding her stomach. There were many things she'd learned about living with Sherlock and one of them was to let him have his way when he was just too focused to listen to anyone else; that was one of those moments, though she regretted to admit it.

OOOO

" I sent a couple of cars, the old hall is completely deserted!" said the last person Ana wanted to deal with; D.I. Dimmock. He'd, as usual, groaned at the sight of the three stepping into the building so late at night; it meant extra work and extra office time... and a Hell of a lot more of Sherlock's attitude.

" Look, I saw the mark at the circus," Sherlock told him, " That tattoo we saw on the two bodies; the mark of the Tong." Dimmock stopped walking at his desk and picked up his phone, sparing a glance at the four standing beside him.

" Lukis and VanCoon were part of a-a... smuggling operation. Now, one of them stole something when they were in China, something valuable," John elaborated, stumbling over his words. Scotland Yard was the last place that he wanted to end up on his first date with Sarah. For all he knew the second they exited the building, she'd be down the street, leaving him a pink slip on his desk at the surgery. But... She was handling it well... well... as well as someone could.

Dimmock looked less than amused at what he was having to deal with.

" These circus performers were gang members sent here to get it back." Sherlock stared at Dimmock, who sighed in exasperation.

" Get what back?" he asked.

Silence between the five people ensued until Ana awkwardly replied with,

" We're a bit fuzzy on that right now..."

" You don't know?" Great, so now his night was being wasted for what exactly? Nothing. That was what. He sat down heavily in his chair. " Mr. Holmes, I've done everything you've asked. Lestrade, he seems to think your advice is worth something. I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I'll have something to show for it, other than a massive bill for overtime."

" Guys, we should just go before he starts having a hissy fit," Ana muttered, nodding to the door. " We have work to do at home anyway. And a date to salvage if I'm not mistaken."

OOOO

Arriving back at 221b, the atmosphere was tense. Ana lagged back with Sarah as they all entered the cluttered flat.

" They'll be back in China by tomorrow," John sighed as Sherlock shed his coat.

" No, they won't leave without what they came for," he disagreed, draping his coat and scarf over a box of books, " We need to find a hideout, a rendezvous..." He wove around boxes to stare at the many pictures on the mirror. He tapped one of the wall by the train tracks. " Somewhere in this message it must tell us..."

Silence filled the room. Sarah looked between the three Baker Street residents before saying,

" Well, I think, perhaps, I should leave you to it."

The two responses that came from the two men in the room were:

" No, no, no, you don't have to go-stay if you like."

" Yes it would be easier to study if you left now."

The responses, spoken at the same time, meshed together in a clatter of words. Ana lifted a hand to rub her face; this night was just getting better, wasn't it?

" He's kidding. Please stay if you like," John amended swiftly. Sarah, who was tugging nervously at an earring, smiled.

" Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?" she asked. Sherlock sighed and muttered to himself,

" Oh, God."

The other three stared at him for a moment.

" Let's see what we can find in the kitchen then, right? I'll see if we have any tea left to put on," Ana said with a smile, heading towards the kitchen with John on her heels. As she began to search the cabinets for tea and anything else edible, John opened the fridge to find practically nothing besides one beer and two bottles left over from one of Sherlock's experiments.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was rifling through papers and searching for clues, a pen ready in hand. Sarah was staring at the work taped to the mirror and the wall, hands in her coat pockets.

" So this is what you do, you, John and Ana-you solve puzzles for a living?" she asked curiously, eyeing the man sitting at the table. Sherlock looked up to stare at nothing and replied shortly with,

" Consulting detective."

" Oh."

John nervously glanced out at Sherlock and took a hold of Ana's arm, which stopped her in the search of food.

" Would you, uh, mind staying out there with Sherlock? Make sure he doesn't do anything to insult or scare Sarah? You know how he can be..." he asked hopefully, the two noting the tension that was already starting to show in Sherlock's shoulders. Ana shrugged off her jacket and draped it over her arm. She smirked at her friend and tilted her head in Sherlock's direction.

" I think I might be becoming known as the Sherlock-wrangler. Of course I will, John." She smiled and walked into the living room, tossing her coat over to the coach. " Let me help," Ana insisted, sitting in a chair on the long side of the table, picking up a picture or two.

The consulting detective's eyes slid up to her and she gave an innocent shrug, turning her gaze to the pictures in hand. Sherlock let out a tense sigh and made himself focus on the papers he was working on; at least he knew Ana wasn't going to ask stupid questions... Sarah, who was hovering over his left shoulder, however, was making him want to snap. Said woman then pointed at the paper in his hand.

" What are these squiggles?" she inquired.

" They're numbers, an ancient Chinese dialect."

" Oh, right, yeah, well, of course I should have known that."

Ana heard and saw the tension in Sherlock's voice and face and held up a hand to cover up her laughter. He looked up at her and glared coldly, at which she just smiled more and looked away; laughing at his discomfort was the highlight of the insane evening.

" So, you understand all of this?" Sarah asked Ana, nodding to the books and pictures. Ana gave a small shrug, holding up the photographs in hand.

" Even if you don't it grows on you," she explained with a small laugh. Sarah moved to

Ana's side of the table and picked up an evidence bag with a photograph inside. Sherlock gave her a disbelieving look, before looking off. This woman was driving him to his last nerve.

" So, these numbers, it's a cipher?"

" Exactly," Sherlock voice sounded slightly relieved she'd finally picked up on something.

" And each pair of numbers is a word?"

Two pairs of surprised eyes looked up at her.

" How did you know that?" Sherlock's voice was low and shocked.

" Well, two words have already been translated here," Sarah explained, leaning down to show him. His blue eyes widened in shock.

" John."

" Hm?" came the doctor's reply.

" John, Ana, look at this!" He ripped the evidence bag open and yanked the picture out. " Soo Lin, at the museum, she started to translate the code for us. We didn't see it." He read the words in the deceased woman's handwriting. " 'Nine, mill.'"

John peered at the picture.

" Something millions?" he suggested.

" Nine million quid, for what?" Sherlock whispered. Ana shook her head as she stood.

" How do we figure this out, Soo Lin didn't finish translating it," she said, taking the photograph.

" We figure it out by finishing the sentence," Sherlock replied, snatching it from her hands and moving across the room to pull his coat and scarf on. A confused look was exchanged around the room.

" Where are you going?" John asked.

" To the museum, to the restoration room," he groaned and shook his head, " We must have been staring right at it!"

" Sherlock, what were we staring at? You're not making sense right now," Ana told him, confused.

" The book, both of you, the book! The key to cracking the cipher! Soo Lin used it to do this!" He held up the photo, coat now on.

" Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk." And with that, Sherlock left the building.

The remaining trio remained silent a moment.

" Is he always like that?" Sarah asked with a laugh. Ana shook her head and sighed.

" Sometimes he's more sporadic. Sometimes he's borderlining insane; consider yourself lucky that it wasn't one of those days," Ana replied tossing hair out of her face. She peered into the kitchen and saw one of Mrs. Hudson's serving trays on the kitchen table, complete with two glasses and a pitcher of punch. She smiled and nodded to the door. " I think I'll leave you two to, uh, fix this date. I'll be upstairs; have a good one." She lifted a hand in goodbye and walked to the stairs, grabbing her coat on the way out. She draped the piece of outerwear on the railing and jogged up the steps to her room.

She took the time to observe her injuries; the cut on her arm was slowly but surely healing and her neck was still sore from the two stranglings she'd received. Worst of all of those though, was the red splotch covering her stomach; the hilt of that warrior's sword had dug into her stomach harder than she would have wished. She hoped it wouldn't bruise, but all thought of ways to make it better were stopped with a strong thud from downstairs. She paused for a moment before hearing thundering steps climbing the stairs. Figuring something was wrong, she quickly made her way down stairs, fixing the skirt on her dress. She was barefoot since the shoes had been hurting her feet for the entire night, and the honest to God last thing she was expecting to see was a man in a hoodie standing in the kitchen over a passed out Sarah. Her heart began to pump faster as anger rushed through her.

" Hey!" Ana shouted, making her way to the kitchen doorway. The man spun around and stared at her, face shaded from the hood.

" Do you have the treasure?" he asked quickly.

" The Hell are you talking about? Get out of my flat!" Ana marched forward and just as she was about to grab a hold of the man's hoodie, his fist lashed out and punched her square in the jaw. She stumbled back and fell, smacking her head against the banister. Her vision began to darken around the edges; her face pressed into the wool of her coat, still hanging on the railing and she felt something warm trickle down her face. Ana grabbed the railing and pulled herself up, hands trembling, head spinning. She looked over at the man and took a step forward, swaying as she struggled to get her balance. She fell forward and took hold of the man's hoodie, but in her woozy state, all it took was for the man to yank her hands off to send her stumbling backwards and tumbling down the steps. The world slowly went back as she lay on the landing, staring up at the plaster ceiling.

OOOO

'Nine mill. for jade pin. Dragon den black tramway.' That phrase was running through Sherlock's head as he jogged back to 221b. That was what the rest of the sentence was. That was where they were hiding. Flinging the door open, Sherlock ran inside before slamming it closed again. He ran up the steps, holding up the book he'd stolen from two German tourists, marching through the kitchen and towards the living room.

" John! Ana! I've got it! The cipher, the book! It's the London A to Z that they use!" Sherlock's joyous tone disappeared as he spotted yellow paint sprayed across his living room windows. The cipher. Spinning around, he saw no one in the kitchen. No food set out, just empty plates; John and Sarah weren't present. " Ana!" Sherlock called out, rushing to the stairs. He froze in place though when he saw something red trickling down the wooden railing. Blood. Drops of it stained Ana's coat and some splotches dotted the steps. The flat was absolutely silent. " Stupid!" Sherlock hissed at himself as he thundered back down the steps. Of course the Black Lotus would be coming after him! But now he knew where they were hiding.

And there was nothing stopping him from getting there as fast as a London cabbie could.

_**Afterword:**__** WOO! It's another chapter done! =D So, I hope you liked it! I probably won't be able to update this weekend (opening night on Friday! Wish me broken legs!) and I will then catch up on sleep. So, the next one will be up relatively soon… (I hope…)**_

_**REVIEW REPLIES!**_

**Watersong77:**_ I'm glad you enjoy it and I'm sorry about cliffies XD But YAY FOR SUSPENSION! XD I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!_

**FreeSpiritSeeker:**_ I'm glad you've been enjoying it! You're very welcome for the update and this chapter was a tad interesting, yes? I hope you enjoyed! Thanks again!_

**The Yoshinator:**_ And, of course, Sherlock doesn't really get the awkward-ness Ana was feeling behind that costume rack XD Sorry about the delayed update!_

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**CassiTTMMMSSPPJ:**_ Finally updated! Hope you enjoyed and will continue to read! Thanks again!_

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**Guest (1):**_ Your comment DID guilt trip me into starting to write this; life just decided to butt its way into my writing and blocked me from my computer with shows and school testing -_- But I hope you enjoyed! Thanks again!_

**Guest (2):**_ I'm SO finishing this fanfic, there's no way I couldn't… too… many… IDEAS! * falls into Sherlock's chair * I have so much fun writing this and I hope you stick around to read more! Thanks again!_

**Pretty princess:**_ It is based on the first season (minus The Study In Pink) and will follow all the episodes as well as the time in between them. And I have the Sherlock/Ana kiss planned out… ohhhhh, yes, I do….. XD And may I just say, __**you**__ are the one who rocks; you took the time to read my writing! I appreciate that from everyone! Thank you so much!_

_**And thank you to those who have read and reviewed this, it means the world to me!**_

_** So, that'll be it for this particular chapter! I will update sooner, I'll have my friend and editor pester me to do it every week =D I also blame my tardiness on Supernatural (anyone else **__**SUPERWHOLOCKED**__**?)—I'm also co-writing a story with my friend LadySurvivor for Supernatural so, if you're interested in it, find our joint account SeasideSurvivor and read it if you'd like!—and also on the original story idea that popped into my head. So… enough of excuses! **_

_** Go forth and be merry and have a wonderful day/evening/afternoon/in between time/space adventures in a phone box or with a consulting detective! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary**_


	15. Fourteen: Scotsman

_Disclaimer:_ _I do not own Sherlock (the books, any films etc.) or any of the characters; they belong to their respectable owners. I only own my OCs Ana and Blake._

Fourteen: Scotsman

John's senses slowly and foggily came back to him; opening his eyes, everything was blurry and his head was spinning. The room was rather muggy-like if someone left the heater and the oven on during the hottest day of the summer. Wait... where was he? 221b hadn't been this warm... sweat dotted his skin and his forehead creased in confusion. Blood was drying on his left temple, clumping together strands of blond hair. The last thing he had remembered was that hooded man in the doorway...

" A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket," a woman's voice said, breaking the silence. The voice was heavily accented-Chinese was it?- and John didn't quite manage to catch the words seeing as his head was suddenly stinging and throbbing horribly.

The world was dulled since his senses were completely out of whack; they were so tilted that he barely registered that Sarah sat tied to a chair, just like him, to his left. Her eyes were full of fear and a black cloth served as a gag, silencing whatever she might have had to say. To John's right, another figure sat secured to another sturdy chair. It was Ana. She was slumped and still unconscious, a cut streaking her pale skin over her eyebrow; drying blood left a trail down her skin, pooling slightly around the ratty gag secured between her teeth. As John continued to wince and blink, Ana's eyes fluttered open. A groan, muffled by cloth, left her mouth as throbbing erupted in her head and on her jaw, where the man had punched her. Everything was uncomfortable for the three; their bonds were too tight and the room was too hot. Blood was drying on both John and Ana's faces-albeit the cut on Ana's head was just a bit worse-and was beginning to itch. She lifted her head and looked around, slowly trying to put everything together.

A woman stepped out of the shadows, raising her sunglasses, which really had no use in the dark tunnel. She was Chinese and had cropped black hair. The smile on her face was smug and she stood before John, meeting his eyes.

" A Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes." John paused for a short moment. They couldn't possibly think that he was... Sherlock?

" I... I'm not Sherlock Holmes," he managed to get out, voice quiet. The woman seemed to resist the urge to roll her eyes as she continued to speak.

" Forgive me if I do not take your word for it," the woman told him before leaning forward and pulling a wallet out of the inside of his jacket. John sighed and blinked rapidly for another moment; this night was truly going to hell. She began to go through its contents, pulling out cards and such. " Debit card, name of S. Holmes."

" Yes, that's not actually mine. He lent that to me."

" A check for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

" He gave me that to look after."

" Tickets from the theatre, collected by you name of Holmes."

" Yes, okay," John said with resignation, head still pounding uncomfortably. Ana was working her mouth to get the gag off, not willing to just sit there and do absolutely nothing-with no offense to Sarah, who was doing just that. " I realize what this looks like, but I'm not him." The woman arched her brows and stared him in the eye again.

" We heard it from your own mouth."

" What?"

" 'I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone, because no one can compete with my massive intellect,'" she quoted slowly, thinking back to the time Sherlock snuck into Soo Lin's apartment. John paused and thought back.

" Did I really say that?"

The gag fell away from Ana's mouth and she flexed her tense jaw for a moment. Did they have to tie it so tight?

" I'm sorry to say, John, yes, you did, and Jesus, woman, don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?" Ana asked with a bitter laugh. She was put-off-extremely put-off. The night just had to go to ruins for them all, didn't it? " This man is not Sherlock Holmes! Do you read the papers?" The woman turned her attention to Ana, who was staring at her with a cold look.

" Someone fix the nonsense leaving her mouth," she ordered. A burly looking man stepped over and slid the gag back on, tying it even tighter between her teeth and lips. She grunted as the knot was tied with such force, her head was jolted forward. John shook his head and shot her a look saying 'please let me try and handle this.'

" I suppose there's no use in me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression..." The woman lifted a gun and aimed it at John's forehead. He lurched back in his seat in surprise, voice cutting off all together. He blew out a breath, keeping his head facing away from the deadly weapon. She smiled at his discomfort.

" I am Shan," she announced with a pleased smile. Ana and John looked at her in surprise.

" You're-you're Shan?" John asked, hoping to take the attention off the pistol.

" Three times we tried to kill you and your companions, Mr. Holmes. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?" Shan questioned before pulling a lever back on the top of her pistol, loading it with a distinctive click. John squirmed even more, his breaths leaving him in noisy gasps. He was scared, he'd admit that; he was no longer used to the immediate danger being right in his face, poised to kill at any moment.

Shan's finger slid over the trigger, black nail polish glinting in the firelight. John watched her finger, tensing for the killing shot... Ana squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head...

Click.

Nothing. The gun didn't fire. It hadn't even been loaded.

" It tells you that they're not really trying." Ana and John relaxed slightly, but the tension came rushing back as Shan loaded a clip and readied the bullet for real that time. The gun was aimed again. " Not blank bullets now. If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive." A pause. " Do you have it?"

" Do I have what?" John asked shakily.

" The treasure."

" I don't know what you're talking about!"

" I would prefer to make certain!" A blanket was whipped off a shadowy shape, revealing the arrow shooting device from the show earlier that evening. John sighed. Of course that would be hear... " Everything in the West has its price, and the price for her life; information." Shan nodded to Sarah. She then nodded to Ana. " And for insurance, her life as well."

Two men sauntered up to Sarah and lifted her chair. Said woman began to struggle and yell against her gag, which muffled any words she might have been saying. Her chair was moved across the room so John had to watch, and it was in the direct fire-line of the deadly arrow. Ana's chair was then moved and placed on Sarah's right; she would have tried to fight her way off the chair, much like Sarah did, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't going to work.

The burly man who had re-tied Ana's gag earlier, stepped back up and pressed a sharp sword blade to her throat, unafraid to use it for its intended purposes. Her breathing sped up because she knew that if she moved even an inch, the blade would nick her throat as easy as that. She clenched her eyes shut a moment; she should keep her mind blank, keep her mind cool... if she panicked it would just get worse...

_Your life is being threatened by a sword. You can panic just a bit,_ she told herself wryly, opening her eyes again.

" Where is the hairpin?" Shan asked, face full of disdain. John could hardly focus on what the woman was saying; both his girlfriend and his friend were currently being threatened; if he didn't convince Shan that he wasn't Sherlock, both would die on his account... the last thing they would both know would be that humid tunnel, the itchy bonds and that no one had been able to save them. He pulled his eyes up to Shan, struggling with the bonds on his wrists.

" What?" he asked, voice strained.

" The Empress' pin, valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London, and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching."

John felt beyond stressed; everything was spinning out of control, way too quickly.

" Listen, listen. I'm not..." John sucked in a nervous breath, chair creaking beneath him. " I'm not Sherlock Holmes and you have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for!"

" I need a volunteer from the audience!"

" No, please! Please!"

" Ah, thank you ladies! Yes, you'll do very nicely." Shan's tone was decidedly sinister, and her smile matched it. Turning and ignoring Sarah's moans of fear, Shan stabbed the sandbag hovering over the bowl. Sand began to spill out as the bag swung gently back and forth. Sarah struggled and tried to loosen the bonds on her wrists, but it didn't work a bit. John let out a heavy sigh, staring helplessly at the sandbag and the weight. " Ladies and gentlemen, from the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companions, in death-defying acts!"

" Please!" John shouted again, pulling against the rope. Shan merely smiled at Sarah as she extracted something from her pocket and placed it on the frightened woman's thigh-it was an oragami black lotus.

" You've seen the stunt before. How dull for you. You know how it ends." She smirked and walked over to Ana, placing another lotus on her lap; blue eyes widening, Ana figured out what Shan was finally playing at-she wasn't threatening her for insurance, no, that was far from it. She was planning on killing Ana anyway.

" I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John shouted angrily.

" I don't believe you!" Shan snapped back, eyeliner rimmed eyes glaring.

" You should, you know," called a familiar voice that made Ana sigh with relief. Shan spun around to see a figure at the end of the tunnel, outlined in mist. She aimed her pistol and clicked a bullet into place. " Sherlock Holmes is nothing like him." Sherlock dashed to the side, becoming obscured by a pile of crates. " How would you describe me, John?" the detective asked as a hulking guard stalked towards the end of the tunnel. " Resourceful, dynamic, enigmatic?"

" Late?" offered John with a breathless voice.

" That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it the bullet will travel at over a thousand meters per second," Sherlock said in reference to Shan's gun.

" Well?" she asked, gun tracing the guard's movements.

" Well..." Sherlock lunged from the shadows, smashing the guard's neck with a pipe, which sent him crumpling to the ground. He dove back into the shadows as he said, " The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four meters. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."

Splashing footsteps neared a metal barrel used to hold the fires to light the room, and Sherlock kicked it over, startling everyone. Shan tried to follow him, gun trained on his figure, but more of the tunnel was descended into darkness, making everyone squint trying to see him. Ana strained her ears to try and listen, but became distracted when the cold metal sword disappeared from her throat. Brows furrowing, she craned her neck over her shoulder and spotted the dark haired behind her, pulling off her gag. As he started to work on the ropes holding her to the back of her chair, she shook her head.

" Get Sarah, she's in more trouble than I am!" she insisted, starting to work on trying to untie her hands. He wordlessly complied, dashing over to Sarah.

Just as he was getting about to untying the ropes, something smooth caught around his throat, effectively choking him. He stood, trying to pull off the silken strand of cloth around his neck; the man just kept looping it over and over around Sherlock's throat, pulling it tighter each time. John, noticing that Sherlock wasn't about to be of immediate help, tried to inch his chair closer towards the arrow firing machine. If he could just tilt it away, he could save her...

And then John's chair tilted over and he crashed to the floor. Ana, hoping to be of some help, tried to scoot towards Sarah, but with her luck, her chair also tilted over, causing her to groan. John being ever persistent though, used his freed legs to drag himself closer as the weight got dangerously close to the bowl. He whipped out a leg at the last moment, directing the course of the arrow to the left...

And it struck the chest of Sherlock's assailant. As Soo Lin's brother fell to the ground, gasping out one last breath, Sherlock untangled himself from the salmon colored silk. He stood and caught his well needed breath, noticing Shan's disappearing shadow. He internally sighed but quickly turned back to Sarah, who was gasping and beginning to sob.

" It's all right. It's over now," he whispered to her as he untied her gag. As she began to sob openly, Sherlock crouched to untie her legs. John looked up at Sarah and thought about what to say. Nothing seemed to make sense at the moment; words just piled up in his head and what he said was,

" Don't worry. Next date won't be like this."

After getting Sarah completely untied, Sherlock moved over to Ana; he gripped the back of her chair and put it upright once more. Neither of them said anything as he freed her from the chair. The first thing she did once free was kick off her shoes-the heels were going into the trash the first chance she got. They were just bad luck. Looking up, she noticed two hands extended towards her, offering to help her stand. Wrapping her fingers around Sherlock's she stood and then flung her arms around his neck; she had to stand on her toes slightly to reach up properly. Her dirtied and bloodied face dropped onto his shoulder as he stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do. Ana pulled back and looked at him before whispering,

" Thank you."

OOOO

Ana laughed at the hideous orange blanket tucked around her shoulders, thinking of the story John had told her of Sherlock and the shock blanket. She sat on the edge of the ambulance, forehead wound cleaned and bandaged and she was waiting to be told she could leave. Sherlock had gone off with Dimmock and John was escorting Sarah home.

Just then, a tall man in a police uniform strode towards her, breath puffing from his mouth in small clouds of condensation in the cool air. He was bound to be as tall as Sherlock judging on how she had to stare up at him. He appeared lanky under his uniform coat, which was baggy on his thin frame. A cap topped his head, hiding most of his hair, but light brown colored eyes met hers from under the brim.

" May I assume that you are Miss Anabell Stuart?" the man asked her, a Scottish lilt gracing his voice. Ana noticed a number of faint freckles sprayed over his high cheek bones and forced herself to direct her eyes to his face again.

" Um, yeah, I am," she replied, hugging the blanket closer around her. The air was beginning to cool off dramatically, which actually gave the shock blanket some purpose. A bright smile pulled across his face, revealing straight, pearly teeth; she couldn't deny he was an attractive man.

" I'm Officer Blake Patterson," Blake said, offering a hand. She accepted it and smiled back at him. " I've been, uh, asked to you some basic questions, do you feel up to it? If you don't I can, umm, always come back later."

" No, no, ask away; the shock blanket is just for show, I promise." Ana laughed and tugged on the orange blanket again. Blake laughed as well and she watched as he removed his cap, revealing a head of messy brown hair. His laugh died down into a chuckle and he tucked his hat under his arm; once that was out of the way, he pulled out a small notepad and a pen from his trouser pocket.

" I'm genuinely glad to hear that; shock isn't fun. Now, lets begin so we can get you of this cold, shall we?"

Over the next five or so minutes, Blake asked the basic questions-what happened, when did it occur, did you see who did it, et cetera-and jotted them down to report back to his supervisor later. Eventually, after turning to a new blank notepad page, he smiled at her and ruffled his hair up more.

" Well, thank you for your cooperation, Miss Stuart."

" Please, call me Ana, Officer Patterson." She paused and thought something over. It was probably a stupid idea-really stupid, but when did she start caring about stupid? " Could I... could I see a piece of paper and your pen?"

Blake arched his brows slightly and tore off a new page. He handed said items over to the woman seated on the back of the ambulance, watching as she used her knee as a writing surface.

" I know that I may be called in for questioning... so... this is my mobile number... call if I need to come in tomorrow... or anything else that may be needed," Ana told him, smiling as she held the paper out to the officer before her. He trained his eyes on the piece of small lined paper, face unreadable. Ana figured he was about to say they could just find her flat's address in their files... he'd probably say it was against his orders to take it...

A grin suddenly broke out across his face. Well, this made it so he didn't have to ask. He met her eyes and smiled more, noting the blush that just rose to her cheeks. Hell, what did he care if this violated protocol? What did he care if it truly care if this wasn't accepted in standard procedure? Honestly... he didn't quite care. He extended his hand and took the paper, eyeing her name and mobile number on it; folding it in half, he nodded.

" I'll be sure to do that... Ana."

Sherlock suddenly stepped over to his female flatmate, eyes shooting to the police officer. His eyes scrutinized everything about Blake, whom he took an immediate disliking for. Judging on the smile lines around his eyes, he was probably in his very early thirties; but judging the way he stood there, shifting restlessly every moment or so, there was a sort of... 'inner child' he hadn't let go of-he probably had a very quieted down childhood. The consulting detective spotted some fur on the ankle of his trousers-long and orange. He owned a cat of some sort, long haired, loved people. They were annoying creatures in Sherlock's opinion. The cop-Officer Patterson as read by his name tag-spent little time focused specifically on appearance: his hair was messy and his pants were creased. Due to the worn out soles of his shoes, he walked a good amount. There was no ring on his left hand-he wasn't married-but he was hoping for a new relationship, judging by the goofy grin he was giving Ana and the fact he now held the number for her mobile in his hand.

And he was a police officer. Sherlock despised them, figuring that their usual incompetence was just a basic requirement for the job. Then again, no one was ever as brilliant as him.

Sherlock's eyes shot back to Ana in a matter of seconds.

" If you are no longer needed we should return to the flat," he said in his typical monotone. Ana looked over at him and nodded in response.

" Of course." He whipped the blanket off her shoulders and she stood up. She smiled and gave a small wave at Blake.

" Goodbye, Officer Patterson."

" Please. Call me Blake," he told her, grinning. She nodded and Sherlock ushered her back down the sidewalk, eyes dead ahead. Ana glanced back over her shoulder to see Blake staring at her back as he backed up to return to the cop case was over...

Boredom was already setting in.

_**Afterword**__**: So there you have it! Long pause between updates, but hey, a longer chapter! We meet Blake! Guess who he will later become? By the way, I picture Blake as David Tennant. Just saying XD So, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!**_

_**And again a thank you to **__**scottishblackbird**__** for editing!**_

_**REVIEW REPLY-NESS!**_

**grapejuice101:** _I'm glad you love it! I hope you keep on reading! Thanks again!_

**FreeSpiritSeeker: **_Ana got kidnapped! She is OFFICIALLY a member of 221b now, don't you think? XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks again!_

**Gwilwillith:** _YAY! I'm glad you liked it! Hope this one was good too! Thanks again!_

**The Yoshinator**: _I think we cleared up the blood thing in a PM, but if not, this should have! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!_

**KijoKuroi:** _The show went well and I'm finally on break! WOO! I hope you liked the chapter! Thanks again!_

**Morgan:** _I updated! YAY! I hope you enjoyed! Thanks again!_

**FrostRose:** _That was the sort of conclusion! The rest is to come next chapter! And then we get into daily life antics for a chapter or two and then we get to MORIARTY! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks!_

**Castiel girl:**_ I finally got to update! I hope you enjoyed! Thanks bunches!_

**Tardis-Impala-equals-Delorean**: _(First off LOVE the username! SO much! =D) * Evil Laugh Is Evil * At least I didn't leave off at a horrible spot here. Let me just tell ya now, I LOVE to leave off on cliffhangers... you'll all hate me in the end XD But thanks again! Hope you enjoyed!_

**Sherlock Holmes:** _I'm glad you like this story so far! Thanks again, hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

**TheWorldIsOhSoBoring**: _I cannot explain how happy your review made me! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and enjoying Ana! I try to think over how she fits in before I write it down and I'm glad it works out well! Well, I hope you're on edge of your metaphorical seat for the next chapter! Thanks again!_

**Guest:** _The update is here! HUZZAH! I hope you liked it!_

**Morgan:** _Sorry, sorry, sorry! I was caught up in end of the year school stuff (finals murdered me...) and my school started an annual LARP and I got involved in it, so that took up some time as well! But here's the update! Hope you liked it!_

**Sherlocked:** _Here is the update! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks again!_

**Sophia:** _I'm glad you love the story! It makes me happy to know you do! Thanks again! Hope you enjoyed it!_

_**And thank you to those who have read and added this to their favorites/their story alerts, it means a lot, you guys!**_

_**There you have it, guys! That's it for this chap! So, the next one will be up soon, hopefully, 'cause I REALLY want to get to Moriarty! So bad! We WILL see more of Blake... Tee hee! And will we see an unknowingly jealous Sherlock down the road? Perhaps... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed! Thanks again!**_

_**~Mary**_


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